Just A Girl
by Race122VE
Summary: ***Completed 4/11/11*** "But...you're just a girl." Glee AU fic.
1. Prologue

**Title:** Just A Girl  
**Author:** Race122VE (Coll)  
**Pairing:** Santana/Brittany  
**Rating:** R (mostly language, then violence and some semi sexiness as the fic goes on)  
**Summary:** _"But…you're just a girl." _Glee AU fic.  
**Word Count:** A little over 4K this part.  
**Disclaimer:** All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.  
**Author's Note:** This is the beginning of an AU universe I've created. I'm going to include some things that happened in S1 of Glee, but basically I'm just taking the characters and putting them in my own world. More details and notes in future chapters, I don't want to ruin anything right now. As always, thanks for reading and letting me know what you think.  
Also, a huge thanks goes to Mel. She's my first Beta and she's amazing and deals with my crazy and loves it (and I love her back)

**Prologue**

It's dark, quiet, and cold.

_Really_ fucking cold.

It's the beginning of September, for crying out loud, it should not be this cold, and yet her breath puffs out in front of her in small clouds. Her teeth can't help but chatter and her hands begin to shake. The objective for tonight is supposed to be stealth. Her body's reaction to the cold: not stealthy. This, ultimately, is not good because she is hunting something, or being hunted. She's not still sure how this whole thing works, and she wasn't given any time to figure it out.

So, here she is. Walking down a dark alley in her Cheerio's uniform, freezing her ass off and waiting for something to happen.

Something in her mind causes her to stop and, she can't explain it, but her body goes on autopilot. Her head tilts to the left, just slightly, and she hears it. A footstep. It's faint, too light, but her hands ball into fists and she whirls around to face…

Nothing.

Her body relaxes, allowing her to move again. She walks forward, slowly, and tries to remember the quick rundown of what she should be doing: Staying quiet, staying alert, and trusting her instincts above anything else.

To her, the last part is the stupidest thing she's ever heard. If she were to trust her instincts, right now, then she'd be hauling ass back to her house.

The other end of the alley is approaching, the warmth of the streetlight calling out to her, but while her instincts are telling her to run they're also saying there is something here. Something she has to take care of. Something she wants nothing to do with but fucking words like "destiny" and "chosen" are suddenly in her vocabulary and she pauses and turns to face the alley she just crossed through.

"Holy shit…"

The voice takes her by surprise.

She jumps, turns, and has her fists raised ready for battle but is met with a familiar face.

Well, familiar in the sense that she recognizes Dave Karofsky, but she is not happy about it. His grin, however, suggests he is thrilled to run into her. "Well hello there," he drawls, eyeing her like he's just found his next slushie target. "Isn't it past your bed time?"

"I'm a big girl, puck head," she shoots back as her body suddenly tenses. "I hope you're not following me, or something, because I'm not even close to interested."

"Well…I'm very interested in-"

"Look, Karofsky, I've got things to do so…" she motions him to scamper off, but his smile just gets wider as his eyes roam up and down her body. It's something she's used to, the feeling when someone cannot stop staring at you. When he stops at her neck, however, and his eyes glaze over and drool practically slides down his chin, she suddenly knows what's happening.

"Shit."

Karofsky's giant, meaty fist connects with her face and she flies back a few feet, landing on her back with a dull thud. It hurts, and she feels the throbbing from where he hit her in the face, but she manages to scramble quickly to her feet and prepare for the next attack. He's walked forward into the shadows now, but she can still feel him leering at her. "I always thought you were tough, but I never expected you to pick yourself up after a hit like that."

"I think I'm gonna surprise you, Karofsky," she banters back with her body on full alert.

The laugh he lets out echoes through the alley. He steps out of the shadow, and his face has morphed into something that she's seen a bunch of times now. She's _still _not sure she can get used to it: the blazing, yellow eyes, the bumpy yet menacing brow, and the glint of white fangs ready to bite into her neck and suck the life out of her.

There was enough vampire craze in the entertainment industry that she hated, why did they have to actually be real?

"But…you're just a girl," he says. "How are you going to surprise me?"

She smiles.

The big idiot steps close enough for her to send a strong roundhouse kick right into his chest, even though he was still several inches taller than her. The shock on his face was almost enough to make her lose her focus, because she never got tired of seeing that 'oh shit' look come across these vampire's faces when they realize that their prey, a helpless, young girl, is actually their enemy.

The force of her kick propels him back several feet, knocking into a dumpster with a loud clang. He's up, though, in an instant. The look on his face suggests that he's through with the back and forth and the assumptions and now he just wants her blood.

The hunger, and the fact that she's guessing he's a fairly new vampire, makes him sloppy. He throws a couple punches that she blocks easily enough, but she can't find room for a blow of her own. He catches her in the ribs and she stumbles back, clutching the area.

Newbies were sloppy, but they were also fucking strong.

"Dammit, Karofsky," she winces.

She's been encountering a lot of new vampires lately, but she was still pretty new herself. So, when he catches her off guard she's only mildly surprised.

There's also pain from the way he tackles her to the ground and now has her pinned. Her senses sometimes need work; she has to keep remembering to focus, even through the pain. It's hard though, especially when you're locked in mortal combat with someone you kind of grew up with. Karofsky was always a meat head jock who spent all his time during school hours picking on the weak. He had this coming to him for a while, but this is the first vampire she's recognized and that's throwing off her game as well.

He's got her pinned pretty good, she'll give him that, but she's got a free hand that he hasn't noticed because he's too busy inching closer. "I always wanted a piece of you," he laughs and she has to fight the eye roll and focus on reaching behind her back. "Here's my chance to taste Santana Lopez."

Santana is so disgusted, she doesn't even give him the satisfaction of a comeback, just brings the wooden stake around and slams it into his chest.

Right in the heart.

Karofsky's eyes go wide, his grip loosens, and his mouth hangs open in shock before it all dissolves in front of her. On her, to be more accurate. The boy was not a small and now she's breathing in a lot of dust.

She rolls on to her side, violently coughs out the dust, and feels her body readjust to not having a 200+lbs. teenage vampire on top of her, as well as her injuries which are now starting to cause lots and lots of pain. She looks down and sees her hand still clutching to the sharp piece of wood, and immediately shoves it away.

A part of her still feels like this is some weird, fucked up dream. That, maybe, someone got it wrong and she was just freakishly strong and naturally agile and not…chosen. So far, months later, it hasn't happened.

A cell phone rings in the distance to the tune of _Don't Stop Believing_ and Santana groans.

How Rachel Berry manages to steal all of Glee Club's phones and set their ring tones to the number they have planned for Regionals, Santana will never know. She wishes, briefly, that the tiny diva will get turned so she could deal with her, but instantly feels bad and takes it back. She may not be Berry's number one fan, but she has grown very protective of her and the other members of Glee.

She pushes herself to her feet, trying not to let the pain of the act get to her, and walks back to where she first entered the ally and stashed her bag behind a pile of empty boxes. She has to remember, next time, to change out of her uniform so she can at least have pockets to carry her phone…and her weapons. The small, piece of wood she was given was a little snug tucked into the back of her skirt, but she had to improvise. Juggling Cheerios, Glee, and school in general was hard enough. Adding her new duties left no time to be conscious of her outfit some nights.

When she finally fishes her phone out of her bag, she clicks through missed calls and text messages. Whoever had called her that many times probably had good reason, but there was no way she could ignore the person calling her right now. She hits the talk button, brings the phone up to her ear, and doesn't have time to greet the caller.

"Report," the voice on the other end commands.

"Just one tonight," Santana responds immediately. "A student. Dave Karofsky."

"Student? How long has he been missing from school?"

"I'm not sure," she answers. "I go out of my way to not pay attention to anyone on the hockey team."

"That's going to have to change."

Santana bites her tongue, stopping whatever remark was going to fly out of her mouth. Things were different now, and she had to keep reminding herself. She'd always been pretty obedient to certain superiors, but that's because of the perks it provided. She may still be on top in terms of high school hierarchy, but she had a feeling that keeping her status was going to be harder and harder.

It was probably too much to ask that being chosen would only change her life minimally as opposed to the train wreck she saw it becoming. Especially if she had to start actually paying attention to the morons in her school outside of the morons she was forced to keep company with.

"That should be it for the night if you got through all the areas you were assigned."

"I did."

"Fine," the stern, soulless voice says on the other line. "That's mediocre work then, Santana. I expect better from you."

"I'll do better next-"

The line was dead before she had a chance to respond.

Even though she hates this with everything inside of her, she still can't help being disappointed in herself for letting her connection to the supernatural world down. What the fuck was she supposed to do, though? If there were no vampires to kill, wasn't Santana's job technically done?

Before tucking her phone back in her bag, she looks at the time and growls at the 1AM sign flashing black at her.

It's going to take her at least fifteen minutes to jog home, then she has to climb through her window and actually calm her body down long enough to fall asleep for a few hours before she's up again at five for Cheerio's practice.

"Son of a bitch."

She looks herself over, her hands wiping at the dust that she is now covered in. Great, now she has to shower and wash Karofsky's ashes out of her hair and pray that they can be dry cleaned off her once crisp and pristine uniform. Luckily, Coach had made them invest in a whole week's worth of uniforms, but she'd have Santana's head if she ever figured out that she'd gotten Karofsky's dust all over her.

Even though it was completely hypocritical and utter bullshit considering how she found out about her destiny. It was a memory that stayed with her every night as she ran home. One Santana will never forget.

**xxxxx**

_There is always something to fear when Sue Sylvester calls you to her office._

_Especially if you're a Cheerio that happened to somehow throw Carly Jones up in the air a lot higher than she intended._

_Like…a _lot _higher. Several feet higher._

_Santana had no idea what happened. They had done this routine perfectly (well, Coach had claimed that they performed like deaf llamas, but still…it was flawless) the previous week, so Santana was just as shocked when Carly flew up in the air. A few girls backed off, some gaped at Santana, and a few remained where they were and tried to catch the flying girl who was now falling quickly back to the football field._

_They all ended up in a huge pile of limbs and groans of pain._

_Santana remained where she was, jaw wide open, and staring upward at how high she had thrown the Cheerio. Quinn Fabray, head cheerleader and one of Santana's best friends, was one of the girls that jumped back and was still taking small steps backwards as she looked from Santana to the pile of flailing bodies and back again. Brittany, her other best friend, had not moved and had her eyes locked on Santana. Her head was tilted slightly and her face had an unreadable expression._

_The feedback from Coach flipping on her bull horn rang in Santana's ears, and she whipped around to look where Coach had perched herself on the stands. She didn't say anything for a moment, which gave Santana a little time to mentally prepare herself for whatever verbal and/or physical abuse she was about to receive._

_"Santana, my office in five. Everyone else hit the showers. And I don't want to see those tears Carly. Walk it off."_

_The Cheerios were stunned into silence. After Coach walked off, all of their eyes turned to Santana. She cleared her throat and began walking off the field, ignoring the feeling of everyone's eyes staring at her still. She didn't turn around, wouldn't give anyone the satisfaction of appearing freaked out or nervous, but she heard someone running after her and just _knew_ that it was Brittany._

_"What was that?" she asked quietly._

_"I don't know…don't know my own strength or something," she dismissed immediately, and felt bad about lying to her best friend just as quickly. "Don't worry about it though."_

_"OK…why didn't Coach yell at you?"_

_Leave it to Brittany to do as she's told, but Santana didn't like the subject she switched to. "I don't know," she repeated, stopping and turning towards the blonde. "I'm sure she has some other form of torture prepared for me. Like I said, though, don't worry about me, B. I can deal with Coach."_

_"Well…let me know what happens."_

_Santana gives her a quick, confident smile before turning and walking as fast as she can into the school. Once she's out of eyesight, her face falls, her breathing becomes rapid, and her pulse is racing. Brittany was right, Coach should have torn her a new asshole and then handed out whatever punishment she had in mind later, but doing the whole thing at one? In private? That was not how Sue Sylvester operated._

_She stopped just short of Coach's door, leaning against the wall and squeezing her eyes shut in an attempt to calm down. "Come on, Santana. Keep it together," she mumbled to herself. She took a deep breath, reached her fist over to the door, and knocked._

_"Come in."_

_Coach doesn't look up as Santana enters. She's writing something down so she just stands and waits for the wrath of Sue Sylvester, trying her best to look like she isn't scared and confused. Coach finally looks up at her. The gaze behind Sue Sylvester's eyes is _always_ fear inducing, but for some reason Santana calms when she doesn't see blind rage etched in Coach's face._

_"That was quite a throw just now," she says conversationally._

_Santana opens her mouth to speak but find she's too shocked to think of anything to say. After all her time on the Cheerios, all her time in the presence of Sue Sylvester, she has never heard anything so light and nonthreatening leave her mouth._

_"Thanks…"_

_"Has anything else like that happened recently? Sudden bursts of…strength?"_

_The question catches Santana off guard._

_Her first instinct is to fire off a 'no' but then her mind begins to rundown the past week's events. She remembers trying to twist the lid off of a stubborn jar and having it explode in her hand. The glass had cut her up, but not a lot because she was healed the next day as if nothing happened. Then she remembers slamming her hand into her locker after remembering she left her homework in her room. It didn't hurt her hand, but she could make out the hand print left behind._

_As she kept going through her week, and even weeks beforehand, she kept remembering all these small instances where something seemed strange but she just blew it off. Coach saw the realization dawn on Santana and smiled. A smile that Santana recognized when Coach came up with a show stopping Cheerio's routine or recruited someone that just boosted the team._

_It was, however, freaking Santana the fuck out._

_"I'm going to take your stunned silence as a yes," Coach goes on, shutting the book she was making notes in and motioning for Santana to take a seat. She does, her body automatically paying attention to any command Sue Sylvester gives. "Listen, Santana, when I chose Quinn Fabray as my Head Cheerio it was a decision that I was starting to regret. Sue Sylvester does not second guess, but there I was…doubting my actions…"_

_Despite her better instincts, Santana actually allowed herself a moment to think that Coach was going to give her head Cheerio._

_Santana couldn't have been more wrong._

_"But I wasn't wrong. Sue Sylvester is never wrong and Sue Sylvester saw something in you that wasn't a Head Cheerio…it was something else…_

_"You see…in every generation there is a chosen one. She alone will stand against the vampires, the demons, and the forces of darkness. She is the Slayer. _You_ are the Slayer."_

_"You're not giving me Head Cheerio?"_

_Denial was a very powerful thing._

_Santana hears the words, they go in her ear and her mind picks them up, but she can't process them. It's like Coach just spoke a different language. So, naturally, she chooses to focus on the fact that Quinn will remain Captain of the team which, OK…Quinn's good and everything, but Santana deserves it so much more._

_Coach snaps her fingers and Santana straightens up, locking eyes with her and still trying to wrap her head around what Coach said, and move past denial "I really need you to focus here, Santana."_

_"I think you've had one too many Appletini CarboGels today, Coach Sylvester."_

_"I don't have time to coddle you, Santana, the forces of evil are invading this town and you haven't had a lick of training," Coach says. "Now…you're my Slayer and, like my Cheerios, you have to be on top of your game at all times. Right now, you're like the Glee Club of vampire Slayers: you can't put one foot in front of the other, can't carry a tune, and aren't even aware of what a complete and utter disaster you are._

_"That changes now."_

_"They're not real…" Santana shoots back. She tries to say the word 'vampire' but finds her mouth can't get around its tricky sound._

_"_Vampires_ are very much real," Coach says the word loud and pointedly. Santana flinches at it, still not convinced that this is an actual conversation she's having right now. It's not even a conversation, it's Sue Sylvester finally stepping over the line to crazy town. "Vampires are real, and it's your job to kill them. So…you should get over your useless denial and step up, because I've got to train you and I don't waste my time on losers."_

_"You expect me to believe this? That I'm some kind of…"_

_"Slayer."_

_Santana closes her eyes at the word, still trying to get a hold of what is happening. "Slayer," she manages to repeat. "And that I'm supposed to kill…"_

_"Vampires…I don't know why it's taking you this long to understand, Santana. You're the chosen one. For once, I don't get to pick who I want. _Do not_ make this harder for me."_

_When she leaves Coach's office, she's still shocked._

_Shocked enough that she doesn't realize Brittany is waiting for her a few feet down the hall. Santana turns in the opposite direction of her friend and begins to walk…somewhere; she's not even sure where her feet are carrying her. Brittany, apparently, doesn't think too much of it and just walks quickly to her side. Santana notices, but doesn't say anything._

_What was there to say?_

_"I don't think anybody has ever been in Coach Sylvester's office for as long as you were," Brittany says after a beat of silence. Santana looks down at her wrist to check a watch that's not there and that she's never worn. She cannot shake herself awake from this dream._

_"What happened in there?"_

_Santana chooses to ignore Brittany's new question and address the comment that came before it, "How long was I in there?"_

_"Almost an hour," Brittany answers. Santana can hear the worry in her tone and feels something tug inside of her, something telling her to make it better, make Brittany better, but she doesn't know what to do anymore. Luckily, Brittany continues, "I thought you would've texted me, like, a few minutes after…but then I walked by her office and you were still in there. So…I waited."_

_The timing makes sense, she supposes._

_After her brain turned on and she started entertaining the idea that Sue Sylvester wasn't playing some kind of crazy, fucked up joke on her, Coach set up a schedule of training and patrolling and…a lot of other shit she didn't want to think about right now. All of that could have taken an hour._

_Regardless of how long she was actually in Coach's office (or how long Brittany had decided to wait for her) she knows that she doesn't have a lot of time to get home, change, and try to convince her mom to skip out on dinner to 'hang out with friends' aka train and patrol and…kill vampires._

_What is her life?_

_"Santana?"_

_Brittany snaps her out of her own head again and she looks back at her friend. "Sorry, B, I just…" she stammers, searching her mind for something dismissive but not hurtful to say. She comes up empty. "I've got to go. Talk later?"_

_Santana doesn't even wait for a response. She's around the corner by the time she has a chance to smack herself in the head for being so verbally clumsy. The fact of the matter is, though, that one of the things Coach went over (the most important, she stressed) was that Santana was not allowed to tell _anyone_ about what she was or what she kills._

_This was going to be her biggest obstacle yet._

_Brittany was persistent and had some sort of crazy sixth sense when it came to Santana. Quinn did too…well, Quinn would find out from Brittany that Santana was hiding something (or pick up on it herself, whichever came first really) and then go all 'holier than thou' Head fucking Cheerio on Santana and somehow force the information out of her._

_Figuring out what to say the next day and getting a story together for when she was sure she would have to disappear suddenly, was just another thing she had to add to the list of stuff she does not want._

_She feels a tear slide down her cheek, and wipes at it viciously. This was not good. She needed to get a hold of herself because Santana Lopez does not cry._

Period_._

_Ironically enough, it took the glimpse of an impending to break down to straighten her shit out and get in a clear frame of mind. With that tear, she pushes past all the other stages to acceptance. Coach promised that, tonight, she was going to see firsthand that vampires were real and she was chosen to destroy them._

_Coach had also told her about her own powers. How, in addition to strength and agility, her senses would be heightened and that she might even be able to sense impending danger and doom. As she stepped outside of school and took in the sight of the sun setting, that sense kicked itself into high gear._

_Santana felt then that she had no choice but to embrace the acceptance._


	2. Chapter 1

**Title:** Just A Girl (1/?)  
**Author:** Race122VE (Coll)  
**Pairing:** Santana/Brittany  
**Rating:** R (mostly language, then violence and some semi sexiness as the fic goes on)  
**Summary:** _"But…you're just a girl." _Glee AU fic.  
**Word Count:** About 4k-ish this part.  
**Disclaimer:** All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.  
**Author's Note:** So…now that the prologue is done, Santana is a vampire Slayer. This is not a Buffy crossover; I'm just using the lore and putting it into the Glee universe. Things will get explained along the way and, as stated previously, I will mention some things that happened in S1 of Glee, but this is pretty much a whole new verse. Thanks for reading and letting me know what you think.

**Chapter 1**

Santana probably got a good hour of sleep, as she predicted on her way home.

There were so many awful things about being chosen, but the lack of sleep was always on her mind. Along with all the other powers, her body can adapt to the lack of sleep. She's not always 100%, but she can function enough to get through practice, school, Glee, training, and patrol. The bed is warm and soft, but when she chances peeking at her alarm clock and sees she only has a half hour to get up, ready, and to practice Santana pushes herself up and walks to the bathroom.

She manages to get dressed and put together pretty quickly. Not having to stand in front of her closet and pick out an outfit was one of the perks of having to wear her Cheerio's uniform all the time, and Santana only appreciated it after her calling or whatever.

As she heads downstairs she pauses and listens to see if her mom is in the kitchen, but everything seems quiet and empty. There's a tinge of saddens that creeps up on her, but she has no time to deal with any feelings right now. She heads to the fridge to grab a bottle of water and pauses when she sees the normally empty door now housing one item.

It's a note taped to the door. _Taped, _for Christ's sake.

This time, she allows herself to feel sad and pathetic about the fact that between her and her mother they don't even have a freaking magnet anywhere on their fridge. The feelings shift quickly to anger when she actually walks up close enough to read the note.

"Fuck."

Her mother had grabbed her laundry before leaving for her job early that morning and saw the dust covered Cheerios uniform Santana didn't hide very well. Usually, Santana took care of her own laundry, but with Coach insisting on having the uniforms dry cleaned her mother occasionally took them in for Santana on her way to work and today seemed to be one of those mornings. Now, tonight was going to be a night where she was going to have to explain how she got the uniform, quoting the note, 'covered in dirt when she was supposed to be studying with Brittany and Quinn.'

Her eyes looked over to the clock on the microwave. Fifteen minutes left. This was not what she needed this morning, but it's what she came to expect with her new, double life. Either way, the only thing she should be focusing on right now was getting to practice. She had all day to think of something to say.

After a quick jog, she bursts through McKinley High's doors and pushes through the crowd (only knocking over a couple of people today, it's a new record since her super strength has kicked in) towards the locker room. Practice is starting as she rushes past rows and rows of lockers before she gets to hers in the back. She checks out the mirror, pleased to find that she's not sweating like a pig and just has to shuffle around some items to make room for her bag.

When she shuts her locker door, Quinn is on the other side with her arms crossed over her chest and a 'what the fuck' glare plastered on her face. Santana screams because, well…she's shocked. She's supposed to have a new, sixth sense about things and fucking Quinn sneaks up on her?

The day was not going well.

"Jesus, Quinn, you fucking scared the shit out of me!"

"_Language_," Quinn admonishes. "Brittany's mad at you."

"Good morning to you too," she grumbles back, purposefully ignoring Quinn's jab at her mouth and the sinking feeling in her stomach at the idea of Brittany being upset with her.

"Did you hear what I said?"

"About the language? I'm fucking ignoring it," she shoots back, side stepping Quinn so she can make her way out of the locker room and the subject of Brittany.

Santana kind of had a feeling Brittany was…not mad per say, but not happy with her either. She doesn't train and patrol _every_ night, but the schedule that Coach came up with covers every night of the week. If she's not giving an excuse to her mom she's most likely giving one to Brittany...and Quinn, but Quinn is different than Brittany. She'll just chalk up Santana's behavior to her mom or something else.

Brittany was different for many reasons.

The first, and most important, was that Santana was completely gone for the blonde dancer.

It was something she hasn't admitted to anyone. She had only began to admit it to herself at the beginning of the school year. Brittany had gone away with her family for the last month before their Sophomore year started, and it wasn't until the absence that Santana realized how much she _needed_ the girl in her life. Then the jealousy of seeing her friend make out with practically everyone that mattered in their class (and the janitor) pushed Santana to admit that, yeah…she had a thing for Brittany.

The bright side to the chosen, destiny thing was that her brain was so occupied with other shit that she didn't have to deal with the whole 'I'm into my best friend' thing.

"Do you even know what you did?"

Quinn had managed to step in front of Santana, blocking the exit to the locker room.

"We're going to be late."

Quinn scoffs. "You've been late the whole week, Santana. It's only been for the first five or ten minutes, but Coach yells at you and then lets it slide miraculously. And I'm the Captain. We have time to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about," Santana fires back, her tone telling Quinn that she should drop it.

"How about the fact that you've been walking around like a zombie for the past few weeks? And…you blew Brittany off last night." Quinn was always horrible at picking up on things like Santana implying that she should shut her mouth, but it didn't change that fact that what she said had caught Santana's attention.

Firstly, there was the zombie comment. She had to bite her tongue to keep from screaming that zombies don't walk like slow morons, they fucking run fast as shit and want to claw your flesh off and eat it. She would know. Since all this…stuff, she's had the pleasure of dealing with zombies.

All that, however, was overshadowed by the subject of Brittany "What?"

"She had that date with Scott…whatshisface, but it was a group thing and you told her you would tag along," Quinn reminds her, but it all flew right over Santana's head. "She said she called you and texted a bunch of times."

She had some kind of bitchy comeback on her tongue, but then her mind kicked in and she flashed back to the previous night. Specifically, picking up her phone and ignoring the missed calls and texts to answer the call from Sue Sylvester.

"Shit."

"What is going on with you lately?" Quinn asks the anger and accusation disappearing from her tone and concern taking over. Quinn can be a real bitch sometimes, and can appear like she doesn't give a damn, but when she gets like this…when she gets worried, Santana knows she's not doing as good of a job at covering her lies as she thought she was.

"Nothing." She may have accepted her role, her purpose, but she is still very good at denial.

"Look, Santana…I know you have secrets, and I know that you like to keep things bottled up, but…" Quinn trails off. She's frustrated, not able to put her thoughts into words, and Santana gets that and secretly hopes it's enough for the Head Cheerio to drop the conversation but there is no way the universe is going to let her off the hook that easily. "You know how things are when Brittany's upset about something. If you're going to keep your problems bottled up, fine. Whatever. But don't alienate the one person that cares about you the most."

"What about you?"

Quinn arches an eyebrow, and Santana rushes on, "You implied that Brittany is the only who cares about me…"

"You know I care about you, S," Quinn says firmly. "But we both know that you and Britt are _closer _and…right now she's pissed, it's your fault, and everyone else is going to be brought down because she's in a bad mood."

Santana begins to roll her eyes, but she doesn't get there. "You know I'm right." Quinn grabs on to her elbow, yanking Santana forward slightly and punctuating each word to make her point.

The whole thing pisses Santana off, but all she can really focus on is that they're late.

Quinn was right. Coach was letting her off easy at Cheerios practice, but no one knew what she endured during training.

"Fucking fine…I'll fix it," she says, but Quinn's grip is firm. Santana can't really help what happens next. The blonde squeezes, not hard…not to someone like Santana who can take punches from vampires, but her body reacts before she knows what's happening. She jerks her elbow from Quinn's hand, but somehow manages to shove her friend at the same time.

Normally, this would be no big deal. However, she's still learning how to deal with her strength, especially when she's in a situation where someone is, technically, invading her personal space and being semi violent with her. The force, however, knocks Quinn into the doors.

Well, _technically_, she pushes Quinn through the doors and onto her ass.

"Shit, Santana."

She knew it was bad when Quinn cursed. Quinn _never_ cursed. She stepped forward, reaching out her hand to help the girl up and receiving a glare in return. "I'm sorry, Q...I'm so-"

"Forget it," she snaps, smacking Santana's hand out of the way before she pushes herself up. "Just…get it together. Fix whatever you did with Brittany and stop shoving your friends."

Quinn walks away before Santana can even think of anything to say.

**xxxxx**

Practice goes by normally: filled with sweat, groans, tears, and some blood.

But, damn, are their routines flawless.

Quinn was right, though…Brittany was mad at her. This particular routine they were practicing did not require the two of them to be next to each other, but normally that wouldn't stop Brittany from wandering over during breaks and chatting about ducks and her cat.

Coach decides to take out Santana and Quinn's lateness (and Quinn's scuffed up uniform from where she landed on the floor) on Brittany when she turned left instead of right at one point during the cheer by making her run laps. Then, the three of them endured her verbal abuse for the rest of the morning before Sue assigns Brittany to put the equipment away. She storms off the field, throwing a 'not quite adequate' about their performance over her shoulder before chucking her bull horn at a cowering freshman.

The field cleared, Quinn (who had done her own fair share of ignoring Santana) included, leaving just her and Brittany.

"Want some help?" she asks lamely, watching as Brittany gathers up some of the pom poms and begins walking towards the bleachers where there were bags waiting. She expected the silent treatment, but she didn't expect it to hurt her as much as it did inside.

Since Brittany wasn't planning on responding, she took it upon herself to start folding up the mats.

"You're going to be late for class," Brittany points out quietly as she walks back to Santana to help her.

"Fuck em," she shrugs, not able to keep her eyes off Brittany. Doing that, though, makes it painfully obvious how much Brittany is avoiding eye contact. "Sorry about last night."

Blue eyes connect this time, staring at Santana for long moments as they carry the mat to the side of the field before Brittany speaks. "You blew me off."

"I didn't mean to-"

"You've been doing it a lot."

Brittany speaks in a calm and even tone while Santana's cut off plea was desperate. It's how it always is with them. Santana's outspoken and can get very passionate and loud about her thoughts. Brittany was more thoughtful about things, which was kind of ironic considering some of the things that came out of her mouth.

The truth was, however, that Brittany was smart. Sure, she needed a lot of help with her math and science homework, but she was thoughtful, honest, and always just _knew_ things. Santana had actually been dreading this moment. Keeping her double life a secret was only a problem when it came to her mom, Quinn, and Brittany. The first two were busy enough with their own lives to really notice how strangely Santana's behavior has been. Brittany was always able to see through her, and now she was calling Santana out and she had no choice but to keep lying.

"My mom's been hounding me lately and…my phone is a piece of shit…I've just got a lot on my mind, B." Santana looks down, hoping that it's enough for Brittany to just stop being upset with her and to just be mildly annoyed. Anything was better than the silent treatment, and she only had to endure that for the length of practice.

"That's all?"

It's a test; Santana knows it is right off the bat. Brittany's giving her one last chance to come clean, or to make her lie more convincing. She doesn't want to lie because they've never kept anything from each other. Really, since they've become friends, Santana has only kept two things from Brittany, and both of them happened only this year.

She knew better, though. Knew that keeping this secret was for everyone else's own well being. Coach has said that being a new, untrained…Slayer was a good thing. Not many of the vampires knew she had been called so, in the scope of things, she had the element of surprise on her hands. If any of them ever gathered enough brains and decided to form some sort of plan to get rid of her, they'd probably go after the people that matter most to her.

Like Brittany. And Quinn…and her mom.

No. _No one_ could know what she was. Is.

"You know if there was something to tell I'd tell you."

Santana fights to keep her face sincere, even though she hates herself for pulling out this card. It was a low blow because if she kept her face still and waited long enough Brittany would forgive her and move on. A smile begins to spread across Brittany's face, and Santana hates herself more then she already did because that means Brittany buys her bullshit and she was basically forgiven.

"So…how'd last night go…?" It wasn't really what she wanted to talk about, but Santana was kind of desperate for a subject change.

"Fine…I guess," Brittany mumbles as they finished packing away the equipment. "He was kind of boring. Everyone was, really. I just spent the whole night trying to get a hold of you."

Considering she just lied to her best friend and got away with it, she shouldn't be so happy inside that Brittany had such a horrible time. "Well…I'm going to have to pay better attention to my phone. Can't have you all bored and stuff."

That one wasn't, technically, a lie. Santana knew she had to be better at juggling if she wanted to try to hold on to the normal part of her life. For now she was just happy that things with Brittany were OK.

Everything was put away and as they walk off the field towards the school Brittany hooks her pinky with Santana's. She has to ignore the shiver that runs up her arm and throughout her body every time it happens. There was a small part of her that wished Brittany wasn't the way she was (open, touchy, and loving). It'd be so much easier to ignore her feelings, but that wasn't the case.

Not to mention the fact that if Brittany didn't do these little things, she wouldn't be Brittany any more.

She had been going on about something for a while now. Once they were in the halls it was harder to pick up what she was saying and have a billion thoughts running through her mind at once. Brittany gives her pinky a squeeze and Santana looks over. "What?"

"I asked if you're still coming over later…after Glee Club…like you usually do every Thursday…"

Shit. She forgot it was Thursday, but there was no way her mom was going to let her out of the house tonight. Santana squeezed her eyes shut, partly to think of something to say, but mostly because she could hear the way Brittany was sighing in disappointment and the last thing she needed was a visual. Then, she tugged them to a stop before pulling her hand free. "Of course you're not. I guess I should have known."

"It's my mom, Britt-"

"Weren't you with her last night?"

Her mouth opens and closes several times before her shoulders slump in defeat. "I just can't, tonight."

"It's fine," Brittany says as she walks past her and down the hall.

Once Brittany's out of eye shot, Santana's fist slams into the wall before she even realizes that it's between periods and dozens of people just saw her put a cracked dent into concrete. She's not really surprised when no one stops and just keeps going on with what they're doing. She's got the 'don't fuck with me' persona down.

Instead she just wipes at her knuckles, cut open slightly and stained white from the wall, and stalks off to class where she hopes to get some of her shit together.

**xxxxx**

The universe keeps hating her that day because she can't manage to think of anything to say to her mom during class. Also, she has no idea what to say to Brittany, or Quinn for that matter. When she gets to Glee Club, the two are seated at the piano talking in whispers. They look up and see her but continue with whatever it is they're talking about.

Judging by Quinn's raised eyebrow and Brittany's pout, Santana figures she's the hot topic.

She stops for a moment to look around. If she can't sit with Brittany or Quinn, she's not really sure she wants to join any of the other small groups scattered about the choir room as they wait for Mr. Schuester. Rachel is blathering on about some Broadway show to Finn, whose expression doesn't change the whole time he's listening, which she's sure he isn't actually doing because she's gotten stuck talking with Rachel Berry before. Vampires were cake compared to that torture. She swears the boy is more clueless than Brittany sometimes. Mike and Matt are in the middle of the room dancing while Kurt and his hag, Mercedes, are talking with Artie and Tina.

Then there's Puck.

He was seated in the back corner with a Nintendo DS held up to his face, punching buttons violently and cursing under his breath.

She ran over her options one more time before climbing up and plopping down next to him. "Aren't you usually joined at the vagina with Brittany and Quinn?"

"That doesn't make any sense," Santana dismisses. "Besides…why would I want to sit with them when I can be around you and your stellar company?"

"Yeah, I'm going to call bullshit on that," he looks over at her, seeing the response on her lips and beats her to it. "Look…I'm about to get to the next level and it's _really_ important that I focus so…why don't we both skip past the denial crap and you just say what the fuck is going on."

Santana's not quite sure how she became kind of good friends with Puck. He's violent, rude, obnoxious, and a good guy underneath it all. Sure, he still tries to get back in her pants every day, even though she's told him many times that the one time they had sex was a lapse in judgment on her part.

A lapse in judgment that was sponsored by cheap Tequila.

They've actually ended up hanging out a few times. They'd go check out scary movies (she bitterly remembers when old school vampire movies were her favorite things to watch), play video games at his place, and sometimes she'd even help him score some beer with her fake ID.

No one really understood it. Quinn, especially, really had a problem with Puck for some reason and she would give Santana shit about it, but she liked having Puck around. Especially on occasions when she managed to piss off both her friends.

"I've just got a lot on my plate right now."

Puck eyes her for a long moment before turning back to his game. "Denial it is then."

"How about we both just shut the fuck up and wait for Mr. Schue."

"Fine by me, sexy."

She hates Puck's little pet names, and has told him time and time again to give it a rest. Of course, he doesn't listen. So she takes it upon herself to punch, kick, or do something equally painful and annoying to show him how much she hates it. Today, she grabs his DS and wrecks his game.

"God fucking dammit, Santana!"

Puck is on his feet, kicking his chair to the side and throwing a mini tantrum when Mr. Schuester walks in and gives Puck a lecture about yelling at Santana. She tries to hide her grin and act hurt and offended as she throws the game back in Puck's lap when he sits down and Mr. Schue starts with whatever the hell he's talking about.

"I can't imagine why Brittany or Quinn would be so fucking pissed at you, _bitch_," he hisses at her before sliding his chair several inches away. She actually feels bad about the whole thing and thinks about apologizing but doesn't see the point. Maybe she should start getting used to the idea of just being on her own.

Of course, as she's thinking that, she can't help but watch Brittany as she and Quinn go and take a seat. Brittany looks up, looks at her, and Santana can see everything that's going on inside her: confusion, sadness, and a little bit of anger. She can only hope that in the small moment of eye contact Brittany can see the same thing happening to her.

Glee Club passes by quickly. A part of her is thankful for that because she's somehow managed to throw off the group with her drama. Mr. Schuester lets them go early and she leans down to grab her bag and when she sits up everyone is running for the exit. Quinn's practically dragging Brittany out by the hand.

Santana's never seen the choir room clear out so quickly.

"You doing OK today, Santana?" Mr. Schue asks, his voice sounding oddly loud now that the room was empty.

"Dandy," she quips as she walks past him.

"Do you have a minute, actually?" he asks as he quickly rushes in front of her, blocking the exit. The sneer that came across her face was a reflex she couldn't help, and when your teacher was Will Schuester who always saw the good in people and all that other shit, you can get away with that kind of stuff.

Santana saw, however, something different on Mr. Schuester's face. Something…_knowing_.

"I've got places to be, actually," she sidesteps him again, because she's got even better reflexes now, and hopes that he's not stupid enough to grab her or something like Quinn because mouthing off to teachers was one thing. Physical violence was another.

"Can we set a time to talk then?" he calls after her. "It's important," he adds when he senses her hesitancy.

Santana turns in the door and says, "Tomorrow…I guess."

As if she needed another mystery in her life.


	3. Chapter 2

**Title:** Just A Girl (2/10?)  
**Author:** Race122VE (Coll)  
**Pairing:** Santana/Brittany  
**Rating:** R (mostly language, then violence and some semi sexiness as the fic goes on)  
**Summary:** _"But…you're just a girl." _Glee AU fic.  
**Word Count:** Under 4k  
**Disclaimer:** All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.

**Chapter 2**

Santana was hoping that she would at least get an hour or something to shower and change out of her uniform, but that's obviously an unreasonable request because her mother is, like, fucking waiting for her as soon as she enters the house. She's on the couch, arms crossed over her chest, and next to her is her uniform from the dry cleaners, now clean and wrapped in plastic.

"Thanks for taking that in," she says after a beat.

"Sure. What were you doing last night that required me to take it in?" her mom fires back, reminding Santana where she got her attitude from in the process.

"I was at Quinn's," she lies, but she knows her mom sees right through her.

"OK, so...Mr. Fabray somehow managed to not see you the whole night?" Santana opens her mouth to say something but gets cut off. "Yes, I called him…and I called Brittany's parents and they said she was out on a date so…I'm going to ask again. What were you doing last night?"

The whole day, she could only come up with one excuse that she did not want to use; but her mother was waiting and getting angrier by the second. She could either tell the truth and risk her mom's safety, or say the only excuse Santana could make up.

"I was with Puck."

The name alone was enough to send her mother into a rage, but that excuse along with the dirty uniform was just going to make this thing so much worse.

The whole situation was just lose/lose.

The sex thing with Puck hadn't happened when he first met her mom. They were outside of school and Puck was starting his shit and Santana threw him a bone and decided making out with him a little wasn't the _worst_ thing in the world.

He had her pushed up against a tree with his hands roaming everywhere, and that's when her mom pulled up. Since then, anytime Puck's name ever got mentioned, Santana's mom made herself clear that she does not approve of him or his reputation (apparently she had talked to some of the other mothers who had hired Puck and his 'pool cleaning' services). Santana would tell her, over and over again, that she had no interest in Puck what so ever.

So much for that argument.

"You know how I feel about that boy."

"Mom-"

"So…you're out with that boy and…what? Rolling around in the dirt?"

Santana clams up. Her mom appears to be in a rage right now and anything she says will just fuel the fire. Plus, if she doesn't say anything else it's technically not lying. Her eyes are on the ground, kicking the floor and just waiting for whatever else her mom has…but it doesn't come.

When she looks back up, her mom's still looking at her but there's no more anger. She's shaking her head and trying to hold back tears but failing. "I thought you were smarter than this, Santana. Than sleeping around with a boy like that-"

"It's not like that, mom," she says, going back on her excuse but not able to take seeing her mother like this.

"We're barely getting by right now," her mom tells her quietly, but still very much upset. "I'm picking up extra shifts at the diner now and…I'm going to be away more. If you get yourself pregnant-"

"Ma…"

"I need to be able to trust you…and I don't think I do."

The disappointment nearly kills her. She feels the words on her mouth, the truth about what she is, but that wouldn't make things better. Ever since her parents divorced and her dad moved away and started a new family, she and her mom became a team. They didn't really have a choice. Her mom had started working at the diner to help with cash right around when school started back up and Santana had to take care of the house, dinner, and other chores.

She didn't mind too much, though. Her mom being absent gave her a lot of freedom to do whatever, when she actually had a normal, social life and not the shit she had now. She always made an effort, though, to never abuse it. She maybe a bitch at school and have the reputation of a slutty cheerleader, but her mother did teach her well and she always carried that around with her.

Now, because of how dangerous her life really is, it was better to have her mom look at her like some kind of irresponsible whore.

"Just…go to your room, Santana, and don't even think about leaving the house anytime soon." Her mom pushes herself off the couch, grabbing the uniform and handing it to Santana before turning and heading towards the kitchen.

There's no use in arguing, and she doesn't have to go out and patrol until later when, hopefully, her mom will be fast asleep. When she gets to her room and looks at the time and sees that she still has hours before she has to sneak out, she flops on the bed. She grabs her phone and can't help but sigh when there are no messages or calls to display and, because she's a fan of torture, she looks at the texts Brittany left her last night. All ten of them ranging from worried to mad, and each one punching her in the stomach for being such an idiot and forgetting about her friend.

She pushes herself further on to her bed, grabs a pillow, and pushes it against her face as she lets out a frustrated scream. Normally, she would punch something but she didn't want to add structural damage to her room on the lists of things her mom has to be mad about.

Her hands drop to her side, still balled into tight fists, and she lays there with the pillow resting on her face. Santana is still and quiet for the first time since…she can't even remember when. The toll that her new life has taken hits her suddenly, and Santana's never really appreciated how amazingly comfortable her bed feels. She takes the pillow and puts it behind her head, staring up at the ceiling as the blades on her fan swish by hypnotically.

It's not long before her eyes close and she passes out.

Only to be woken up by her cell phone and…Santana _officially_ hates the song, _Don't Stop Believing_.

Well, she hates hearing it over and over and over again and, right now, it's playing over and over again. Her eyes open and she's still in her room, but everything is pitch black. Obviously, quite some time has passed since she, more or less, passed out earlier. Her eyes adjust quickly and she grabs her phone just as the ring tone stops and gets a glimpse at the time.

"Fuck me," she mutters when she sees that it's 4AM…and that she has twenty nine missed calls.

Apparently, Santana had _really_ needed sleep. How the hell had she slept that whole time?

She hears the door slam shut down stairs and scrambles out of bed to look out her window and see her mom get in the car and drive off to one of her jobs. Her phone rings again, for a thirtieth time, and Santana throws it against the wall. It shatters into pieces and she smiles in satisfaction. Even though she slept for a crazy amount of hours, she still feels completely exhausted and her bed looks way too comfortable.

The frustration, anger, and sadness she feels is just too overwhelming. Santana thinks about what lies ahead of her today. She thinks of Cheerios practice and how she'll be abused there before getting called into Coach's office and being handed her ass for missing patrol. She thinks of seeing Brittany the whole time and, most likely, being ignored by her. She thinks of her classes and having to listen to her teachers drone on and on about nothing because she basically has no future anymore. She thinks about Glee Club and how it used to make her happy but, after yesterday, it just doesn't seem the same anymore.

Most of all she just thinks about how out of control her life is. How she could go through such a shift in power over her actions so quickly over the course of a few months. She hates it so fucking much.

So, because she needs to take control of her life now that it seems like everything is falling apart, she climbs back into bed and doesn't plan on waking up for a very long time.

**xxxxx**

Ditching school was a lot easier than she thought it was going to be, even with her mom in her business more so than usual. She usually beat her mom home anyway, so she didn't even have to sneak out of the house only to sneak back in. Also, the school usually called with an automated message saying that the student was absent, but that was easy enough to erase.

That Friday and the whole weekend, Santana just marinated in the quiet normalcy of being grounded like any other teenager out there. Yeah, she blew off everything: Cheerios, Glee, training, patrol, all of it. The twinge of guilt was easy to ignore locked away in her room watching trashy realty shows all weekend while she shoved the contents of the fridge in her mouth, Sue Sylvester's master cleanse be damned.

Her mother was, of course, thrilled that Santana wasn't even arguing the punishment, but didn't take too kindly to the destruction of her phone. She didn't say too much about it, though. In fact, the two hardly spoke. Anything Santana said would be a lie and her mother was too wracked with worry and frustration to form any kind of coherent thought.

So, the weekend went by in silence.

Santana returned to school on Monday with a new mindset. A new plan.

"This is unacceptable."

The first thing she did was march into Sue Sylvester's office, Cheerio's uniform in hand and resignation from the team on her tongue. "I'm sorry, Coach, but-"

"There's no buts here, Santana," Coach cuts in. "I'm not even talking about the Cheerios right now. Honestly, you've been slacking during practice and I was thinking of kicking you off the team anyway. What's unacceptable is you ignoring your calling for _three _nights. That's when people turn up missing."

"You're the one that told me vampires have been around for a long time, Coach, and that there haven't always been slayers around," Santana points out, well rested and with a clear mind to argue her point. "I'm one girl. Bad things happen all the time and…I'm not always going to be able to fix it."

"Well, not with that attitude," Sue mumbles.

"This…thing is ruining my life," Santana says, her voice cracking with emotion. "And on Friday it was just…it all became too much and I needed a break."

"It pains me to say this, Santana, but this calling of yours, being the Slayer, it's bigger than us, and it's out of my control," Sue winces when she says that last part, but continues. "After your behavior this past weekend I would trade you if I could. It's not going to happen though. You can quit the Cheerios, try to fix things with your friends, but it won't change what you are."

"I know I can't change what I am," Santana admits quietly. "It pains _me_ to say that, and I don't plan on going under the radar like I did these past few days. It's just been nonstop for months and I needed some time to think about what else had to change in my life."

Sue nods along. "Well, like I said, I was going to throw you off the Cheerios anyway…and it's probably a good thing you quit the Glee Club once and for all."

Santana's brow furrows. "I'm not quitting Glee Club."

Coach blinks a couple times before shaking her head. "I'm sorry…I don't think my ears functioned there, for a second."

"I'm not quitting Glee Club. My plan was to just quit the Cheerios," Santana says slowly, making sure to speak clearly.

Sue narrows her eyes and Santana would normally be quivering in fear right now, but she doesn't care. She may not be free from her destiny, but neither was Sue Sylvester which meant that _neither_ of them had any power. She could do things like quit the Cheerios and stay in Glee Club because that's what she really wanted to do now. Not to mention that her calling had, more or less, turned her into a freak of nature anyway. Might as well embrace it.

Coach dismisses her with the promise of pain and suffering later on during training, and Santana can't help but smile at the idea of besting Sue Sylvester. Even in a totally fucked up way.

Since she's no longer on the Cheerios, her first period is now wide open. She heads to her locker feeling free in just a pair of jeans and a normal, black T shirt while her hair hangs loose around her shoulders. She's not surprised at the glances she receives on her way, but does notice a general somberness that is filling up the hallways. She shrugs it off and opens her locker when Puck's sliding up next to her almost instantly.

"Where the fuck have you been?" he asks in a serious tone. It gets her attention right away and she looks over to see _actual_ concern etched all over his face, but then he takes in her outfit and she can see the confusion. "And where the fuck is your uniform?"

"I've been around and I quit the Cheerios. What's it to you?" she shoots back, annoyed. Christ, can't she check out for a couple of days without every single person jumping down her throat?

Puck leans in and says in a low, serious tone, "You ditched on Friday, you don't answer your fucking phone all weekend, and now you quit the Cheerios…I'm fucking worried here. That's what it is to me."

"If you must know…my phone is in pieces right now, I was grounded, I can't deal with being on the team right now, and I ditched because…well, I do what I want," she tells him as her memory kicks in. She knows her mom hates Puck, but she's got to get her alibi straight. "Oh…hey, so…if for some reason my mom were to talk to your parents or…you, we were together on Wednesday night."

All previous emotions of Puck's are dropped and replaced by his familiar leer. "Oh really?" Santana rolls her eyes as she finishes up at her locker and walks off, not waiting for Puck but expecting him to follow. "Are you going to tell me what I'm helping you cover up?"

She ignores him, debating on whether to grab just a coffee before class or go for a full on breakfast.

"OK, fine…don't tell me, but you have to promise me that whatever the hell it is that you're doing, you're being careful."

That stops her in her tracks.

Yeah, they had this weird friendship, and Puck was a great guy, and blah, blah, blah…but him being this overprotective of her was not usual behavior for the Puckasaurus. "What is with you today?"

"Didn't you catch the news?" he asks. "Interact with any human being in this town? People are missing."

"Who?" _Karofsky_, she thinks automatically and hopes she sounds convincing enough even though the image of his face turning to dust begins to replay over and over again.

"Matt, Jew Fro…one of the other AV kids," Puck lists off the names and Santana's jaw drops in shock because she totally didn't hear Puck say 'people.' "And Karofsky."

The guilt over powers her and she grabs Puck's arm to steady herself. Her legs feel like jelly and she kind of stumbles to a stop with her mind racing a mile a minute. She had meant everything she said in Coach's office, bad things were going to happen with or without her around, but now Matt was missing. Matt was someone she saw every day, someone she's talked to, someone she hooked up with at a party a long time ago, and someone who she considered…

He was her _friend_.

How could she have been so selfish?

"OK, seriously, what is going on with you?" Puck steadies her and once she can trust her legs she pushes away from his grasp and walks quickly down the hall. "Santana!"

"Leave me alone," she calls over her shoulder.

The weight of the situation is heavy on her shoulders and the tears threatening to fall at the reality of everything cause her vision to blur. So, when she smacks into someone she's not that surprised and has some kind of rude comment on her lips and ready to rip.

But then she becomes aware of how warm, soft, and _familiar_ this body feels.

It's Brittany. The girl has this citrus smell that no other person possesses and her strong hands move from out in front of her own body to gently hold Santana's arms. Her own arms slide around the blonde's waist as she hangs her head, closes her eyes, and lets herself enjoy being this close to her best friend again. Brittany, however, pushes her away, just a little bit, and dips her head to peer down.

"It's true," she says simply.

Santana looks up and can't help but glance at Brittany's lips because they are just _inches_ away. She steps away a little (not loosening her grip and pleased when Brittany's gets slightly tighter), tosses her head back to clear the hair from her face, and looks into clear, blue, and worried eyes.

"About the disappearances…I just heard…"

Brittany shakes her head, "About you quitting the team." Right, _that_. It's amazing how she could already forget about that, but her mind was just everywhere at the moment and she hadn't even gotten to thinking about how Brittany was going to take the news of her quitting. Mostly because she wasn't sure if her and Brittany were going to be on good terms anymore, but now that they were standing there in the hall with their arms around each other and the blonde looking back at her with confusion and sadness all over her face Santana can't help but think maybe she jumped the gun on the quitting thing.

"You should be at practice, B," she points out.

"_You_ should be at practice," Brittany shoots back. "Why did you quit? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Oh…so, we're talking again?" she can't help but snap. Suddenly, everything feels too normal so Santana goes into defensive mode because she's going to fuck this up again and she might as well do it on her own terms. However, she instantly hates herself when Brittany pulls away and looks like Santana just kicked a puppy or something equally terrible.

"Do you think I like this? That it's easy for me?" Brittany asks quietly as she crosses her arms over her chest, almost hugging herself. "You're keeping something from me, Santana. We've never had secrets before."

That, of course, makes her feel even more awful because she's secretly in love with Brittany. That secret she's been keeping longer than this new one. Telling her now though…telling her _ever_ would just be selfish. Just like her being chosen, it was something she knew she could ever say.

"I'm not allowed to have something that's just mine?" she shrugs, trying to choose her words carefully. She's not even sure what she's saying, really.

Brittany tilts her head to the side, considering the question. "Whatever you're keeping from me is hurting you, I know it is. Don't you want help?"

She wanted it more than anything. The only person she had to talk to was Sue Sylvester, and that obviously didn't count. Brittany's still watching her, looking open and inviting and not telling her is becoming the hardest thing she's ever had to do. Luckily, the blonde speaks again, "I _did_ try calling you over the weekend. A bunch of times, actually. Especially since you weren't at school on Friday."

"My phone broke."

"How did it break?"

Santana feels her patience slipping away, plus she can't stop thinking about Matt and the other missing kids and if they were lying in the dirt somewhere waiting to wake up to their new life. She was probably going to have to stake them later tonight, something she could have avoided if she didn't shirk her responsibilities.

"What the fuck is with the twenty questions?" she snaps. "You should get back to practice before Coach rips you a new one." Then she turns and practically runs the other way.

It's the second time in less than ten minutes that someone she cares about calls after her and she's ignored them.

**xxxxx**

The whole day she has to endure not only her thoughts, but the stares from just about every single person in the school. Didn't they have anything better to do? It was pathetic and it made her want to go on a rampage because there were more important things going on. She'd heard more whispers about why she wasn't wearing her uniform than the disappearances of the student.

As soon as she walks into the choir room she gets the same reaction: curious and suspicious glances of disbelief, even though they'd all seen her at some point that day.

Everyone except Matt.

She ignores them, and the bitter guilt she still feels, but debates on her walk over to the risers whether she should sit in the front and not have to look at anyone but tolerate the stares that her back is sure to receive, or sit in the back where she can stare longingly at Brittany the whole time.

Mr. Schuester makes her decision for her. "Hey guys…I'm just gonna send you to the auditorium today to rehearse the choreography."

Everyone gets up and heads for the exit, walking wide to avoid getting within any kind of radius of Santana. She goes to turn but Mr. Schue is watching her and she doesn't need super powers to know that he's going to hold her back, so she stays. He motions to his office when the room clears out and she follows, but catches the tail end of Brittany watching her as she disappears into the hall.

"Where were you on Friday?" he asks, jumping right in before she can even sit down.

"Sick." She says immediately. She knows just as well as Mr. Schue that they're in an interrogation scenario, might as well act like it.

He nods and gestures to her attire, "Sue told me you quit the Cheerios but decided to stay with Glee Club…"

She rolls her eyes because, honestly, what else is she supposed to do? "Is this the part where you applaud me for being true to myself?"

"No," he replies, throwing Santana off. "If you were being true to yourself, Santana, you'd quit the Glee Club too."

That wasn't what she expected. "What?"

"Santana…I know what you are," he whispers, leaning forward. "I know that you're the vampire Slayer."


	4. Chapter 3

**Title:** Just A Girl (3/10?)  
**Author:** Race122VE (Coll)  
**Pairing:** Santana/Brittany  
**Rating:** R (mostly language, then violence and some semi sexiness as the fic goes on)  
**Summary:** _"But…you're just a girl." _Glee AU fic.  
**Word Count:** just about 4k.  
**Disclaimer:** All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.  
**Author's Note:** Just wanted to say thanks to everyone who's been reading and commenting and keeping up with me. This is still a work in progress, but I have the next three parts written so I'll stagger them out over the next week and give myself room to finish the rest. Again, thanks for keeping up with me, I really liked reading what you guys thought so far!

******Chapter 3**

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about."

Mr. Schuester leans back in his chair, shaking his head at the use of her language, but…he really threw her off. There was no way in hell he could be serious. How could he know about what she was?

"I know what you're thinking, and it's OK, Santana," he starts off calmly. "I've actually known about you for a while, just as long as Sue and…the Council actually feels that it's best if I become you're…"

His hands move around in the air, before he has the light bulb moment and he nods, "Co-Watcher."

She stares back in disbelief. "You two…couldn't even run Glee Club without want to rip each other's throats out."

"At least you're not denying that I know what you are," he says victoriously. She curses under her breath as he continues, "Things are different, Santana. After you disappeared over the weekend, along with the report of other students that went missing, the Council decided that while Sue was exceptional in training you to control your physical powers she lacked patience when it came to the importance of you learning the roots of your powers.

"That's where I come in."

Santana exhales heavily. "I really don't think I can take this shit right now."

"I don't want to overwhelm you, Santana," he rushes on but his voice is laced with sympathy and understanding and it just makes Santana want to punch him in the face. "I get how this is…a lot to take in. It was for me, too, but I think me helping out is going to be better in the long haul. Better for _you_."

"And quitting the Glee Club, too…that's _better_ for me?" she asks.

Mr. Schuester shrugs, "I didn't know it was that important to you."

"Me either," Santana laughs bitterly. "I mean…I liked it, but then…my whole life was taken away from me. I'm losing everything, Mr. Schue, and I just want one thing to hold on to."

She was lying again. If she could hold on to one thing it would be Brittany, but she wasn't naïve enough to believe that she could accomplish that especially after her run in with the blonde today. Glee Club was number two, and that was only because, while she kind of loved it, Brittany completely loved it with everything in her. She opened Santana's eyes to how amazing it felt to forget about what other people thought and just do what you love.

And she did love Glee.

Mr. Schuester still seems hesitant, so she argues further, "Come on…at least let me try to keep up through Regionals. You already have to replace Matt. Do you want to replace me too?"

"You heard about Matt." It's not a question but he is visibly upset about the topic.

She can't imagine she looks any better now that she brought him up. "Puck told me…he told me about the others too. I killed Karofsky last week so…I can only assume about the others."

He nods along, his voice still quiet when he responds, "Well, you're going to patrol tonight so I want you to keep a look out for them and…as for Glee…we'll see how things go. If this affects your slaying-"

"I'll quit, I swear," she cuts in. "Trust me…I don't want any more blood on my conscious."

Santana can't help but feel OK about everything that's going on. That maybe this whole thing might work out, as shitty as it is. In the back of her head, she knows that this won't last. There's still the guilt and anger underneath everything, but when she accepted this she accepted those emotions. Plus, she's still grounded. She still has to tell her mom she quit the Cheerios. Her small victory is short lived and her shoulders slump in defeat.

"Santana…?"

"I'm grounded," she sighs. "I had to lie to my mom about Wednesday night and now…"

His brow furrows in thought, and she's thrown off because she would never be able to say something like this to Sue Sylvester without receiving a 'You think this is hard?' type of diatribe.

"How about I call her? I'll ask her if you can help tutor some kids in my Spanish class," he suggests after a moment. "Sue and I will come up with a schedule and I'll go over it with your mom."

She hates that she _doesn't_ hate admitting this, but…she is pretty grateful for Will Schuester.

"Maybe this co-…whatever won't be the worst thing in the world."

"Good," he smiles warmly. "I'll call your mom tomorrow and…you'll be OK for sneaking out tonight?"

"Yeah, it'll be cake."

"OK, you should head off, Santana." She tries to argue, because they still have to rehearse, he waves her off, "We're still doing the choreography, and you can miss one more day and be fine. Go home and try to fix things with your mom."

The rational part of her brain knows that he's right, but she can't help but want to spend another hour in the same room as Brittany even if things were still a little weird. However, Mr. Schuester is sticking his neck out for her, trying to make things easier, and she kind of owes him one for that.

So she smiles, makes a face when she catches herself smiling, then frowns in confusion and walks out the door.

**xxxxx**

The walk home was purposely long today. She wanted to keep the high that she was riding because who knew when she would score a victory, small as it was, again with her life being what it is. It felt nice to have someone like Mr. Schue on her side, but she was a realist and knew that he and Sue Sylvester would be tearing into each other in no time.

Santana didn't want to think about that right now. Not when she reached her house and entered the door. Her mom greeted her, asking about Glee Club and why she wasn't there. It was all meaningless small talk and it lasted a few short sentences before she made her way up to her room to finish her homework before dinner.

The whole time her stomach flip flopped back and forth at the idea of telling her mom about her decisions.

Dinner comes around before she knows it and she didn't know what kind of reaction she was going to get from her mother when she tells her she quit the Cheerios, but the way she's shaking her head in disappointment feels like a punch to the face. "What were you thinking?"

There's that nagging pain, again, of not being able to say exactly what she was thinking, so she settles with, "I don't see what the big deal is."

"And I don't know where your head has been lately. First you've been careless and your mind is always somewhere else, then the boys…" Santana can't help but roll her eyes how Puck suddenly turned into boys. "Now you quit the team. What about your scholarship?"

Santana arches an eyebrow at this. "I never had a scholarship, ma, I'm still a Sophomore."

"You were on a _Nationally_ ranked team, Santana," her mom argues, but then she stops and just deflates. Her fork clatters on to the plate before she grabs it and she gets up from the table. "I can't force you to do anything, and I want you to be happy. I just wish you would think things through sometimes."

The need to bite back that she's been doing nothing _but_ thinking things through cause her muscles to tense. Now, more than ever, she's been thinking about the future (or lack of one, considering her fucking destiny). She has her hand balled into a fist at her side as she bites the inside of her cheek and stares at the table, willing herself to stay calm and not do anything stupid.

Whatever idiot in the universe that decided a Latina with an anger management problem would be the perfect person to give super strength to needed to seriously rethink their decisions.

Her mom returns after dumping her plate in the sink to clear off the rest of the table, but Santana grabs her wrist when she reaches nearby. "I'll get it," she says quietly, pulling her hand back. It's the closest thing to an apology she can give right now, but her mom is more concerned with rubbing at her wrist after Santana lets it go.

Just when she thinks disappointment is the worst thing she can see on her mom's face, fear flashes across for a moment before she nods and heads out of the kitchen. She mumbles something about being tired, having to wake up early, and going to bed early before heading upstairs. She looks at that clock and sighs when she sees it's only six thirty.

Great, at this rate her mom was going to send her away to reform school or something.

For the first time since this whole thing happen, Santana can't wait to go patrolling. She does a half ass job of the dishes and cleaning the kitchen before running upstairs and pulling the bag she usually takes with her out and making sure it's loaded up with weapons. She chucks it on the bed and debates whether or not she should leave early.

On one hand, the chance that her mom would want to come chat in the next few hours was a little on the high side. Then there was the fact that she was going to fucking punch a hole through her wall if she didn't get out of this house soon.

Either way, her mom was going to be mad so she takes the chance and climbs out her window.

When she reaches the cemetery, a calm washes over her. The whole way over, her jog was being fueled by anger and guilt, but now she felt like she belonged at this place. It's kind of what made her calling easy to accept. She felt it deep down in her bones and when she was out in the darkness she knew that this is what she was made for, like it or not.

A noise up ahead grabs her attention. Her stance stoops a little lower, her hand automatically grips a sharpened piece of wood, and she moves on slowly and with a purpose. The feeling that she's picking up doesn't feel urgent and remains low and hides behind head stones as she approaches the sounds.

Once she's there, she feels like running in the opposite direction.

It's Quinn, kneeling in front of a grave, whispering…something that she can't make out, but it's screwing with her brain for some reason. She feels like she's missing something, but the only thing that seems important is backing up and heading to a different part of the cemetery, avoiding Quinn all together.

Before she can even make her legs work, Quinn flashes the beam of her flashlight on Santana's small, crouched frame. She's, literally, a deer in head lights. "Santana?"

"Oh!" she exclaims, over dramatically, trying to play off the happenstance of the situation. "Hey…Q…"

"Hi…" she replies slowly, rising to her feet and staring at Santana like she has four heads. "What are you doing here?"

"Just…out for a walk," she supplies lamely. She really needs to get better at thinking on her feet, but this secret has tainted her ability to think straight.

Quinn looks around. "We're in a cemetery."

Santana just shrugs as she sets her bag down. Keeping her mouth shut seems like the best course of action right now. Quinn's still looking at her like she's crazy, but Santana's mind begins to wonder what Quinn is doing in the cemetery at night. Her eyes move past the blonde to where her bag rests in the grass, next to a head stone.

Her mother's head stone.

That's when Santana's concept of time kicks in and she realizes Quinn's mother died three years ago today. She looks back at her friend and takes in her harried appearance and the tear tracks on her cheeks. "Shit, Quinn…I'm sorry-"

"Is this why you're here?"

There was no way the universe was going to hand her this excuse, it seemed too good to be true. Plus, she felt like an asshole for using the anniversary of Quinn's mom's death to get her out of this situation.

"Yeah." Santana's felt like worse things, though, and she really needs the out right now. "I know things have been weird lately, and I know it's my fault, but…"

Quinn keeps looking at her, studying her, and Santana just has to wait to see if she calls bullshit or not. She breathes an internal sigh of relief when the blonde softens and strides forward, throwing her arms around Santana's neck.

The shock prevents her from reacting right away, but after a moment she slides her arms around Quinn's waist and squeezes tightly. Quinn sobs into her shoulder and Santana has to hold back her own because she didn't realize until just now how much she missed her friend.

Her friendship with Quinn was always a tricky one. Sometimes it seemed like Brittany was the thing that kept them together, and most of her life Santana believed that.

Until Quinn's mom died and Santana's father left almost at the same time.

Brittany didn't really understand what was happening at the time and offered her support as best she could, but Santana and Quinn both leaned on each other pretty heavily for a while after it all. Quinn's situation was, admittedly, so much more awful than Santana's, but the blonde never treated it like that, never made Santana feel like shit for hating her father sometimes, especially when he got remarried.

That's why Quinn remained her best friend, right next to Brittany. It was why this hug from the girl suddenly made her feel like herself for the first time in days.

It was also, however, distracting which is why Santana didn't notice that they had gained company until a hand pulled her back by her hair and threw her to the ground. She hits the ground, hard, and can faintly make out Quinn's scream in the back of her mind.

"Shit," she hisses when pain clouds her mind, the figure is on top of her immediately, though, and she goes into Slayer mode. Fists are flying everywhere, blows are landing and being blocked, and she's trying to just focus on getting to her feet, but when she gets a clear look at her attacker she can't help the sneer that comes on her face and the disbelief in her tone.

"Jew Fro?"

Jacob takes advantage and lands a blow to her face and she can hear the bone in her nose snap. "Fuck!" she exclaims, but it gives her motivation to throw a punch back. It's hard and enough to throw Jacob off her body. Now free, she rolls on to her side, bringing her hand up to her face to try to gauge the damage. Her fingers are covered in blood and she looks over to see Jacob trying to scramble to his feet, then she looks up at Quinn who is frozen in place, tears falling from her eyes, and mouth hung open in shock.

"Quinn, get the fuck out of here," she commands as she pushes herself to her feet and rounds on Jacob before he can get his bearings. She sends a swift kick to his abdomen which sends him back to the ground with a thud.

It's then that she realizes that she should be holding a weapon in her empty hands. She reaches to her bag, but it's not there. She searches the ground, but her eyes stop at Quinn's feet. Quinn's feet that are still rooted in place and not running away. "God fucking dammit, Quinn! Run!"

It's enough to distract her from finding her bag (seriously, where the fuck could it be?) and from Jew Fro who has managed to get up and tackles her to the ground. Quinn jumps back, but still doesn't run away. Santana continues to struggle, but Jacob grabs the back of her head, pulls back, and slams it into the ground over and over.

He stops when he feels her body go limp, and then all she's aware of is how cool the grass feels against her cheek followed by the sudden lack of weight on top of her body. Everything is spinning and her face is numb, but painful at the same time. It's weird.

She's not sure exactly what's going on, her head is in a million places at once, but she is able to focus her vision she sees her bag right in front of her. She throws herself a victory party in her head, but still can't manage to move her body and actually do something.

Not until she hears Quinn mumbling "No, no, no…" over and over again.

She also hears Jacob breathing heavily. Even as an undead vampire, he's still a mouth breather, but she ignores her annoyance enough to realize that he's taking the opportunity to kill Quinn while Santana's lying on the ground, stunned and in pain.

Little does he know how quickly she can bounce back, especially when she hears the shriek Quinn lets out. Her hand darts into her bag, grabbing a stake and clutching it in her hand, before she pushes herself up and over to where Quinn is trying unsuccessfully to push Jacob off her.

Santana doesn't waste any time, doesn't think about the fact that this is another one of her classmates she's killing or that Quinn is witnessing this, she plunges the stake into his back and he explodes into dust.

Quinn stumbles back now that there's nothing holding her in place anymore, coughing and looking back at Santana with wide, terrified eyes. Santana's breathing heavy, and now that there's no immediate danger she feels the extent of the hits she took tonight.

Everything suddenly overwhelms Santana. She drops to her knees, the pain of that action is nothing compared to everything else, and looks up at Quinn. She doesn't trust herself to say anything, so she waits.

"What…the _fuck_…?"

**xxxxx**

There are several minutes of denial and disbelief after Santana tells her what just happened, what's been happening. Then Quinn floors it past all the other stages of shit she should be feeling and straight to acceptance.

From there, she goes straight to 'I need a drink.'

Santana's shocked, but then shrugs because…well, she doesn't need much of an excuse to head to the nearest liquor store (which is, weirdly and practically, right across the street from the cemetery) and put her fake ID to good use. She picks out the cheapest Vodka the store has, grabs a four pack of sugar free Red Bull, comes up with a poor excuse regarding her roughed up appearance and bloody nose, and then heads back to the cemetery because it's the place where they can drink out in the open and not get hassled.

They find the nearest bench and when they sit Quinn snatches the bottle from Santana's hand, twists the cap off, and takes a long gulp. Santana is ten steps ahead of Quinn, cracking open a Red Bull and ready to hand it over as a chaser because, well…Quinn's not a huge drinker. Not only that, but she's not a huge liquor drinker. The girl sticks to wine coolers and Santana always has to resist the urge to vomit whenever Quinn says she prefers them.

Finding out that vampires exist and one of your best friends was chosen to kill them was, apparently, an excuse to upgrade to the hard stuff.

They spend about…half of a bottles worth of silence together before Quinn speaks, slightly slurring. "This is all really real, huh?"

"Yep," she replies with a slur of her own as she tips the bottle back to her lips and winces at the burn of the liquor coming in contact where her lip is burst open.

She hands the bottle back over to Quinn who is now shaking her head. "How have you done this? This whole time…dealing with this and only having…_Sue Sylvester_ to talk to."

Santana laughs. "Please, Quinn…with Sue the only one I have to talk to I basically have had no one to talk to…" she furrows her brow at her words, but she's still laughing because, well, it feels good to laugh and she hasn't had a chance to do it in a while. "Did that make any sense?"

Quinn, however, is not laughing. Not even close. "Everything's so different now," she points out. It also lets Santana know what kind of drunk Quinn is going to be tonight, especially when she goes on. "I mean…you're life is just…_fucked_ now, you know? A-and…you could, like, die at any second. Just like Jacob…and, I mean…you're a killer too, S, and this is just…you're just fucked…"

"Yeah, you mentioned that," Santana quips, purposely ignoring the truth in Quinn's drunken monologue. "And thanks, you know, for making me feel better about the whole thing and not being brutally honest."

"We could have died tonight…we almost died tonight. I don't want to die, Santana. I don't…I don't _want_ you to die," Quinn tells her forcefully. She goes to take another swig of Vodka and Santana snatches the bottle away, deciding that Quinn needs to be cut off is she's going to keep talking like this.

Quinn's hand darts over and, for a second, Santana thinks she's trying to get the bottle back. She's not sure if she feels better or worse when Quinn grabs her hand and laces their fingers together. It's weird that this is what makes her body tense up, and it's not a sexual thing because, well…Quinn's not the ugliest person that she's ever seen, but she's _Quinn_ and not _Brittany_.

Regardless, she just wasn't expecting this kind of support when she allowed herself to indulge in the 'what ifs' when she thought about telling _anyone_ about her destiny. She expected confusion, fear, disgust…she never expected acceptance and love.

It felt nice to feel this, though, to feel hopeful that maybe everything could work out. Maybe she could tell Brittany or her mom one day and everything would be fine.

Then reality smacks her and she realizes that Quinn knew for twenty minutes before needing a drink, and that she wasn't even sure how this was going to affect their lives because it was just the beginning.

"What happens now?"

Santana looks over at Quinn who is watching her, hazel eyes wide and scared. She's not as drunk as Quinn, but she's had enough to drink where she can't think of a single, uplifting, positive thing to say.

"I don't know, Q," she admits, but she squeezes her hand before taking another sip. Quinn turns away and stares out into the cemetery. Santana watches her for another moment before doing the same.

Usually she can see things so well at night, sometimes better, but tonight, thanks to the Vodka, everything was blurry. It's why she can't be sure of what she sees, but she squints into the darkness, leaning forward slightly because, far on the other end of the cemetery, Santana swears she sees Matt walking by.

"What is it?" Quinn asks when she notices Santana's interest being piqued.

After killing Jacob tonight and Karofsky last week, she can only assume that all the missing kids at school have been turned. However, she would have felt his presence…not to mention that there's no more sign of him. He was there one moment and gone the next, if he was ever there to begin with. All of this could be blamed on the liquor.

"Nothing," she answers, hoping that she was telling the truth.


	5. Chapter 4

**Title:** Just A Girl (4/10?)  
**Author:** Race122VE (Coll)  
**Pairing:** Santana/Brittany  
**Rating:** R (mostly language, then violence and some semi sexiness as the fic goes on)_  
_**Summary:** _"But…you're just a girl." _Glee AU fic.  
**Word Count:** over 4k  
**Disclaimer:** All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.

**Chapter 4**

The night before, Quinn had insisted on picking Santana up and driving her to school, even though footing it hadn't really been a problem anymore. When she pulls up, Santana hops in and gets a good look at Quinn.

To a casual observer, Quinn looks like perfection. To someone like Santana, who has walked in Quinn's shoes and knows the tight ship Sue Sylvester runs, Quinn looks like complete and utter shit. However, she'll probably just take a verbal lashing because Santana plans on telling Sue about what happened last night.

Well, except for the getting drunk thing...Coach doesn't need to know about that. Sue (along with , she supposes) does, however, need to know about Quinn knowing even though she wishes she could keep that a secret, but there's already enough secrets in her life.

"Hey."

Quinn groans in response, pushing her sunglasses further up her nose. "Too loud," she croaks out as she looks back at Santana. "Didn't you break your nose last night?"

Honestly, she had forgotten about that. She flips down the mirror and brings her hands up to poke at her nose. "Huh…yeah…healed pretty good."

"So…on top of everything, you heal really fast?"

Santana smirks in response, "Yep…that means no hangover." She also ignores Quinn's muttered 'bitch' as she pulls out of the driveway.

They ride in silence for a bit, and it's kind of awkward. They didn't really say much after she walked Quinn home last night. Well, by the time they finished the bottle it was more like Santana stumbling while dragging Quinn home, but she didn't know what to expect now that someone normal, someone close to her, knew that she had this fucking destiny.

She stares straight ahead, watching the world go by and feeling pathetic about the situation. This whole time, all she's wanted is for someone to _know_, someone to talk to. Now she's worried about telling Coach and Mr. Schue, she's worried about what Quinn's going to say or if she's going to ask to help, and she's worried that the wrong kind of person will find out what she is and that Quinn knows and…

Santana drops the thought, not wanting to think about it and stamping the rest deep down.

Plus, Quinn's looking over at her every five seconds and it's distracting. "What?" she snaps, eyebrows raised.

Quinn shakes her head and becomes very interested in focusing on the road (which she really should be because she's fucking driving) "It's weird…not seeing you in your Cheerios uniform."

"It's freeing," Santana tells her. "You know, you never really _appreciate_ jeans until you're forced to wear that fucking uniform ever fucking day."

"Rub it in, why don't you?" Quinn shoots back.

They fall into another uncomfortable silence. Santana's still worried about what Quinn's going to say about everything and, while she's glad someone does know, she kind of wants to just pretend like it never happened.

Of course, Quinn has a different idea.

"You know, we never really went over what it is that you…" Quinn gestures her hand in the air for a word but lamely settles on, "_Do_."

"I told you all that before we got drunk."

"You told me about the…"

"Vampires," she supplies when Quinn doesn't continue. "Jesus, Q, just say the word and stop treating it like it's Voldemort or something." Quinn arches an eyebrow. "Yes, I've read fucking _Harry Potter_, whatever…"

Quinn lets it slide, probably because of the hangover, but Santana will take what she can get. "What I meant was that I want to know about what you can do. Like…obviously you're strong and you can heal quickly…"

"That's it, really," she responds. "And, I can sense things…I don't know, nothing too exciting."

"So…that's it…there's nothing else to tell?"

The way Quinn asks is unsettling to Santana. It's too knowing, but the only other thing she's keeping from Quinn, from anyone, is her feelings about Brittany. There's no way Quinn could know anything about that, so she lies, again, "That's it."

"Are you going to tell Brittany?"

"No," she answers quickly, maybe a little too quickly with the way Quinn eyes her as they pull into the school's parking lot.

Once Quinn parks and kills the engine, Santana's out the door and practically running towards the entrance. Quinn's hot on her trail, though, and still being just as persistent as ever. "Why not?"

"What's the first rule of _Fight Club_, Q?"

"Don't…talk about…_Fight Club_," she replies slowly after a moment of thought, confusion laced in her tone.

Santana nods, "And what's the second rule of _Fight Club_?"

"You know, I wasn't really paying attention when you made me watch-"

"_Do not_ talk about _Fight Club_," Santana cuts in. "Slaying is the same way, the same rules."

They reach Santana's locker and she angrily whips it open and gathers what she needs for the morning while Quinn furrows her brow, confused, "What about all the other rules, like…the no shoes and shirt thing…?"

"Ugh," she groans loudly. "Look, I'm already going to be in enough shit once Sue and Schue find out that you know. Not talking about this, to _anyone_, is the most important thing about being the Slayer. It's the best way to keep the people I care about safe. So, no…I'm not going to tell fucking Brittany."

"Tell me what?"

She slams her locker door shut, revealing Brittany looking sad, confused, and kind of adorable, but she can't focus on that right now. She feels Quinn stiffen next to her but can't tear her gaze away from Brittany.

Right about the time she realizes how stupid it is to just stand there staring and saying nothing, Quinn pipes in, "Santana and I ran into each other last night."

She whirls around angrily at Quinn who jumps back a bit, but continues to address Brittany, "It was, um…" she pauses, trying to compose herself because she's starting to tear up and Santana is officially confused. "It was at the cemetery. Because of, you know…yesterday…"

Brittany lets out a surprised gasp and, before she can fully understand what's happening, the blonde had wrangled both Santana and Quinn into a weird, uncomfortable group hug. Santana manages to catch Quinn's eye, and she winks before letting tears run down her face and using Brittany's shoulder to wipe them clean.

That sneaky bitch, but Santana just kind of loved her a little bit more.

Although, there was a slight nagging in her mind from using the thought of Quinn's dead mom and her dead beat dad, but this is a secret she has to keep from Brittany.

They all kind of pull away from each other, but she can't help but notice the warmth of Brittany's hand pressing against the back of her own unintentionally. She looks down and can't help but lose her concentration from the jolt that touch sends throughout her body. It's very hard to concentrate on anything else.

Her mind does wander a bit when she watches Brittany's hand grab Quinn's and squeeze.

Brittany was kind of at a loss when the whole death/abandonment thing happened. Her infectious, cheery disposition dampened significantly and she never knew what to say. Her family was, for lack of a better word, perfect. Her parents were high school sweet hearts, went to the same college, then on to having amazing careers in the medical field, all the while bringing up three gorgeous blonde daughters (Brittany is the middle child, but there's no trace of middle child syndrome).

Like she said, _perfect_.

There was no way she could grasp the idea of death and having a parent want a different family than the one they already started. Santana and Quinn may have gotten a lot closer during that time, but Brittany was always right there beside them, head leaning on one shoulder while her hand firmly grasped the others.

It was what she did best, she was just _there_, and to Santana and Quinn it was everything.

"Are you guys OK?" she asks before shaking her head. "I am so sorry I forgot…"

"It's OK, B," Quinn jumps in because Santana is still distracted by the small touch of their hands. "I didn't really bring it up to anyone this year. Santana just kind of stumbled upon me."

"You should call me, next time," Brittany says, but now she's looking at Santana. "Maybe we could do something tonight," she suggests, her face lighting up at the idea. "Watch a movie, eat ice cream, and you guys can sleep over…like we used to…"

Santana has to look away, but she makes the mistake of looking at Quinn who looks open to the idea before seeing Santana's face and realizing that doing something normal like having a sleepover can't happen anymore. She shivers when Brittany moves her hand and crosses her arms over her chest, pouting at Santana.

"You two…should definitely do that," she says nodding at Quinn and avoiding Brittany's eyes at all costs. "And, I wish I could…there is no way in hell my mom is going to let me."

"It does sound like fun, Britt, I'm in," Quinn says, crossing Santana and grabbing Brittany by the elbow. "We should get going, though, or we're going to be late for practice."

Quinn spares her a glance filled with sadness and understanding and Brittany's looking back with the same disappointment she's been looking at her with for weeks.

She's never hated herself more.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles as they head in one direction and she flees in the opposite.

**xxxxx**

It's just like she predicted.

They all had a free period before Glee and Santana had decided to tell Mr. Schue and Coach about Quinn, then all fucking hell broke loose.

Sue started screaming, Mr. Schue started screaming that she should stop screaming, and Santana sits with her arms crossed over her chest, rolling her eyes at their display of poor…watching.

"Something _has _to be done," Sue keeps repeating over and over.

"There's nothing we can do," Mr. Schue argues back. "We're just going to have to adapt, just like we did when The Council asked me to help with Santana."

"Sue Sylvester does not adapt to anything. The situation should adapt to me," she says. "And I say we send Quinn Fabray far, far away-"

"Sue-"

"Fucking enough!" She's on her feet, fists clenched at her sides and enjoying the way both of her Watchers flinch at her outburst. "There are more important things to worry about now…like missing students, the fact that we're all still fairly new at this and the vampire count has been rising."

Coach makes a move to say something and Santana rushes on, turning on Mr. Schue, "You said it wasn't going to be like this. That it wasn't going to be like when Figgins made Coach Sylvester co-runner of Glee, yet here you are yelling at each other. How the fuck is this going to work if you can't handle just one Slayer?"

They all stop and just stand there, catching their breaths, calming down, and Mr. Schuester puts on his 'I'm a good guy' cap and softens. "You're right," he admits lowly. "And…none of us have had any experience with this and we have to stop taking it out on each other."

"We also have to stop being disobedient," Sue directs towards Santana.

"What was I supposed to do? Let Jacob kill Quinn?"

Sue's about to answer, and judging by her face she's probably going to say something about the greater good and people being expendable but, thankfully, Mr. Schue cuts in, "Look, what's done is done. We can't change it now. We just have to keep doing what we've been doing." He turns to Sue with a determination in his eyes that Santana has never really seen before. "You're the trainer. You deal with making sure she's prepared physically. That's your job. I'll take care of Quinn. That's my job."

"I won't tell anyone."

Three head spin towards Quinn, who is half hiding behind the door frame of the choir room. Santana notices how she's trying to be strong, be Quinn Fucking Fabray, but she knows Quinn better than that. She knows how scary this whole thing really is, especially since she hasn't really talked to her about it. She just hopes Coach doesn't really pick up on this, though, Sue Sylvester knows all.

"Sorry about butting in," Quinn goes on when no one acknowledges her, fully stepping into the room and crossing her hands in front of her. "I know this was supposed to be a secret, and I know why…I get it...but I think this is going to work out better in the long run."

"You don't know the first thing about any of this," Coach spits out, followed immediately by Mr. Schue chastising her for speaking in such a way to a student.

They weren't really that, though. Students and teachers. They were four people who knew about this other world. Four people who now shared one common goal. Four people that just wanted to help make the world a better place.

"I just think..." Quinn pauses, her mind searching trying to search for the right words, for a convincing enough argument to appease Sue, before continuing to spill her guts. "People have noticed that something is…_different_ about Santana. _I've noticed_. I think me knowing, I think her having someone to talk to is just for the best.

"And, if I can somehow make this easier for everyone…why the hell not?"

This time, three heads turn towards Sue Sylvester. They all know that she's the one they really have to convince. Because Mr. Schuester may be disappointed, may think that things would be better if Quinn never found out, but Santana knows that he wants to make this as easy for her as he can.

Before she can respond, he beats her to it, "You're absolutely right Quinn. You could probably help me out with a lot of research…but we don't want to force you to do anything-"

"You're not," she assures them. "I want to help." She says, turning to Santana and smiling, "_Any_ way that I can."

It's one of those mushy moments that Santana fucking hates, but she can't help but smile at Quinn.

Thankfully, the bell rings and the hustle and bustle of the end of school begins to fill the halls. Sue turns to look at Santana and she sees the displeasure she has towards the situation. "I want you in the gym for training five minutes after you're through wasting your time with this pathetic excuse for a club," she barks out, then turns to Quinn. "And I want you to make sure that everything is set up for practice tomorrow."

It's the only power Sue Sylvester has right now, and she's going to cling to it with everything she has.

Before anything else can happen, Rachel Berry marches into the choir room, undeterred by the four of them standing in the room and walking straight up to Mr. Schue. "Mr. Schuester, I had some things to go over before Glee Club starts," she says, trailing off a little bit when her eyes wander around the room and Santana knows she senses the tension.

Sue stalks out, throwing another sneer their way and smacking the stack of books out of Kurt's hands as he enters with Mercedes. Will shakes his head as Kurt and Mercedes bend down to pick up the books before nodding to Rachel, "Sure, hang out in my office and give me a sec."

The small girl looks angry at not being made a priority, but obeys none the less. Will motions for Quinn to step closer as he walks up to Santana. "I know this is going to be a little hard at first, and I plan on talking to Sue about the way she treats you two," he assures them. "We just have to take this one step at a time, keep our heads on our shoulders and all that. We can talk more tomorrow about it all, and Quinn you can come if you want."

"Thanks Mr. Schue," Quinn smiles and he sends one back to both of them before heading into his office to be, most likely, bombarded with a hundred suggestions from Rachel.

She sits down on the piano bench and Quinn looks over at her. Already, Santana can see the support and whatever motivational shit she's about to spew out and cuts her off before she can get started, "FYI, we're not going to talk about what just happened. I appreciate it, whatever, but I would just like things to be fucking normal right now and not be all sappy and shit. I don't think that's too much to ask."

"OK," Quinn agrees as she sits down next to Santana. "Scott asked Brittany out on another date."

Santana literally bites her tongue at this, so hard that she starts to taste blood.

"She said she was going to think about it," Quinn continues, knowing full well that Santana is ignoring her. "I'm sure we'll be talking about it tonight."

"Bummer I have to miss it," she quips bitterly.

"You know," Quinn begins and Santana already hates her, even though moments before she couldn't be happier to have her as a friend. "If there's something else you've been hiding-"

"There's not."

She closes her eyes at the obvious denial, but it's such an instinctual reaction that the words were out of her mouth before she even thought of them.

"You told me about what you really are, Santana, and I'm still here," Quinn reminds her. "There's nothing you can tell me that will make me turn my back on you."

"I seem to recall requesting that we cut back on the fucking sap."

Everything is still so fucked up.

Just when she thinks she has a leg up, that life is going to cut her some slack, something new comes along and it feels like any progress that was made never existed to begin with. She can see Quinn out of the corner of her eyes and, she looks pissed, but still weirdly warm and friendly.

"Fine, no more sap," she says evenly, and Santana prepares herself for whatever verbal bitch slap Quinn has planned. "I'm going to be your friend and tell you the honest to God truth."

"Really?"

"_Really_," she repeats. "You need to get over your daddy issues, your abandonment issues, just deal with them and move on." Santana tries to cut in because she's gone from zero to fucking pissed in no time, but Quinn is on a roll. "I'm not trying to imply that you weren't dealt a crappy hand, S…I'm _not _and you _were_. Do you think you're the only person in this world that ever got a crap deal? Sure…you've got a lot more to deal with, but you and I both know there's something else going on and…

"I mean, aren't you pushing enough down as it is?"

"You know you should just shut up about shit you don't know anything about," Santana warns. "I can't change this. It's my fucking bullshit destiny, and that's how it is. It's dangerous, and no other Slayer has lived passed their twenties. That's my reality. That's what I think about all the time so, yeah, I push everything else down. What the fuck else am I supposed to do?"

All the anger and intensity slips off of Quinn's face. "You ask for help," she says simply, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. "But…I know you, a lot better than you think I do. So, I know it's going to take time for you to get that concept, and I know you're going to keep pushing…but I'm not going anywhere."

Then, of course, the thing that they're both _really_ talking about walks into the room, her blue eyes drawn over to the two of them. Brittany's timing has always been like that, and sometimes Santana will entertain the idea that Brittany has known everything, all along, and was just waiting for Santana to find her moment.

"It's never coming," she mutters, low enough for Quinn to inch forward and raise her eyebrows in question.

Santana just shakes her head. "You should go sit with her," she suggests, watching as Brittany drags herself over to the top of the risers and plops herself on to a chair in the back corner.

When Quinn doesn't move, she becomes more insistent, "Look, you said what you had to say. You're not giving up on me, blah blah blah…just go fucking sit with her. She looks like someone ran over a duck or something."

Quinn smirks. "You know I've been talking you up," she says as she rises to her feet. "I know things are way different now, but you should try to put in some effort to live up to what I've been saying."

She's walking away chuckling before Santana can even think of something to say. Quinn's not gone more than ten seconds before Puck plops down on the bench, leaning his body into hers. "Sup, babe?"

"Please tell me your not serious right now," Santana sneers, pushing back and mumbling a curse when she forgets her strength and nearly knocks him off the bench.

"What the fuck is up with you?" he retorts, sitting so that he's purposely not touching her and gripping the bench. "Still on bad terms with the duo part of your trio?"

"We're fine," she responds dismissively.

He laughs, "Yeah…you and Quinn have been chummy today. Then there's Brittany-"

"There's a lot going on," she says defensively, but catches herself. "Wait, why the fuck am I even participating in this conversation? What do you want?"

"I was just wondering how it felt to be one of the normal people?" he asks conversationally. "Well…I'm being nice when I call you a normal person considering what other people are saying."

She tries not to be so interested, because once she decided to quit the Cheerios she knew her social stock would plummet. Curiosity manages to win over sane reasoning in this case, "What the fuck are people saying?"

"They're calling you a delinquent, freak show, basket case, crazy bitch," he lists off, counting them on his fingers. "There's more, but those are my favorites."

It's something that she expected, but the names still slice through her. Santana had experience acting like she didn't give a shit about what other people thought, so she put that to use. It was a lot easier, however, to not care about what people thought when you were on top.

"Thanks for the update," she says, trying to feign disinterest. "You can go sit over there now and try not to light anything on fire."

"Not so fast, sexy," Puck laughs. "I was just thinking that we could hang out later, stir some shit up. You've got this reputation whether you like it or not, might as well have some fun with it."

It's kind of tempting. She's entertained the idea of what it would be like if Puck knew and, other than the sexual comments he'd be bound to make, she doesn't think it'd be half bad. Then Santana realizes that he was talking about sex when he shoots her a wink and waggles his eyebrows.

"You can fuck off now."

She looks away, but makes the mistake of looking up to where Quinn joined Brittany. Brittany has her head down, talking about something she can't really make out, but Quinn is sending a death glare her way.

Well, her direction.

"So…Quinn still hates me."

"Everybody hates you," she quips before noticing his tone.

Turning back she sees the slump in his shoulders, the slight pout in his lips, and the way he's shaking his head. "Why are you so upset about it?" she questions suspiciously.

"I'm not," he fires back. "Do you want to hang out later or not?"

Santana furrows her brow. "I told you to 'fuck off' then that 'everybody hates you…'"

"Yes or no?"

"Please don't make me hit you."

Luckily for Puck, Rachel leaves Mr. Schuester's office looking confident and pleased with herself. Mr. Schue, however, looks like he never wants to go through that ever again.

"OK guys," he starts off after a deep breath. "We got Regionals coming up but we still have a couple more songs to pick out so I want everyone to bring suggestions and arrangements..." Mr. Schue keeps going on, but Santana is too distracted to pay attention.

It's not like she really has to pay attention anyway. There's no way she's actually going to have time to think of something, and they'll probably just end up using one of Rachel's things anyway. Plus, she can still feel Brittany looking over at her.

Once she notices Brittany watching her, all she can think about is that Scott guy asking Brittany out again. Then that leads to the two of them falling in love and riding off into the fucking sunset and other horrible images she can't shake out of her head.

The anger she's feeling is so irrational and stupid, but its building up inside and her patience is starting to wear thin. She has no right to feel this angry, she knows that, and there's nothing she can do about it.

That's the worst part.

So, she stands up, slings her bag over her shoulder, muttering something about not feeling well and the bathroom as she exits the choir room and then the school.

Santana knows she's going to get flogged at training, but she kind of can't wait to fucking punch something.


	6. Chapter 5

**Title:** Just A Girl (5/10?)  
**Author:** Race122VE (Coll)  
**Pairing:** Santana/Brittany  
**Rating:** R (mostly language, then violence and some semi sexiness as the fic goes on)  
**Summary:** _"But…you're just a girl." _Glee AU fic.  
**Word Count:** A little over 4k.  
**Disclaimer:** All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.**  
**

**Chapter 5**

The next day was boring considering all the excitement she had been experiencing.

She woke up after a crazy night of training with Sue Sylvester. Normally she'd feel fine, but her muscles strained when she stretched, remembering the abuse she took from Coach over the whole Quinn thing.

Santana then had an awkward morning with her mother followed by all day awkwardness with Quinn, keeping true to her word and not going anywhere. Santana was grateful, she was, but she still wasn't ready to talk about what Quinn had said.

Thankfully, Quinn didn't push the subject either…even when they saw Scott something talking to Brittany. She was leaning back against her locker; he had his arm resting above her head. With Brittany's Cheerio's uniform and Scott's letterman jacket they looked like a fucking high school cliché that she wanted to throw up on.

She allowed herself a second to watch, process, then move on to class, Quinn following behind with a look of disbelief plastered on her face.

It was a new thing she was trying, something Sue brought up after training the night before.

Focus.

This whole time, since she found out what she was, her mind had been scattered all over the place. Last night, she made a promise to herself that she was just going to try to focus on getting through the day and not worrying herself over fucking trivial, high school drama.

A few more students had been reported missing, and after her run in with Karofsky and Jacob they all had to assume that something else was going on, something bigger, and that took precedence over anything else in her life.

Santana had only, really, half accepted this whole thing. It still kind of wasn't real for her. It took all those people disappearing when she checked out, Quinn accidentally finding out what she was and now being in the same boat with her, and killing two people she knew for her to fully grasp the scary seriousness of it all.

This was bigger than her, this was the most important thing, and she had to focus on that and get through the day so she could do her job.

It was pretty early when she climbed out her window and headed to the first area that she was scheduled to sweep.

Mr. Schue and Coach decided that she should start walking around some of the places where everyone from school would go to hang out. There was a three block strip that housed several restaurants (including Breadstix) and the bowling alley then the mall. They figured if students were the main target that area should be Santana's main focus.

It was harder, though, to hunt with all these people around. It was eleven at night but the streets were, still, very much populated. She hung back in the shadier streets, closer to the main road, and walked through alleys for about an hour. She was ready to give up in this area and move on when she looked down towards a deserted corner a block away and saw Brittany.

Her first reaction is to turn and walk away, focus on patrolling.

Then she realizes she's patrolling, she's on a semi shady street, and so is Brittany. It's late and she's alone, looking like a happy meal for vampires, and, even though it will probably just make things worse, she walks over.

Once Santana gets close enough, she can see how upset Brittany is. Her uniform is disheveled, hands are shaking, and her eyes are glossy and filled with unshed tears. Her head snaps up when she hears Santana approaching and her body relaxes slightly. "Santana," she breathes.

"Britt," she replies as she looks around. "What are you doing out here alone? It's late…"

"Scott dropped me off here." The name alone send her into a fury, but it's nothing compared to how she was about to feel after what Brittany tells her next. "We were on our date…and then he pulled over and wanted to make out, but I wanted to go home so…he left me."

It's then and there Santana decides that she is going to kill Scott whatshisface the next time she sees him.

"He fucking left you here?" Brittany sniffs and nods. "It's past midnight-"

"You're out late too," Brittany points out. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"Just out for a walk," she answers quickly before switching back to the more important subject. "Brittany, you have to get home it's not safe out here by yourself."

"You're by yourself."

Santana sighs in frustration. The whole focusing on her job thing has flown out the window and all she can think about is that fucking jock putting his hands all over Brittany and her trying to shove him. The images keep playing out in her head and, of course, since it's her head they're exaggerated and worse than what actually happened.

Then she gets mad again, because what actually happened was he ditched her in the middle of town, miles away from Brittany's house.

"Can you walk me home?"

She feels like she's being pulled in a million different directions, but that all stops with Brittany's request. Being a Slayer suddenly has no meaning, she feels no obligation to the world, just to Brittany and keeping her safe.

It's hard to speak around Brittany usually, and when she's trying to keep calm and not lash out at something it's even harder, so Santana nods and Brittany smiles.

Santana hasn't seen a smile on Brittany's face that genuine in a long time and she throws one back at the blonde. "Good," Brittany whispers. "I've been meaning to…I have something I wanted…"

Brittany stammers through what she's saying, and Santana gets nervous because Brittany _always_ says what's on her mind, whether it makes sense or not.

"Is everything OK?" It's a stupid question because some asshole just kicked her to the curb when she refused to make out with him, but there's something else going on. Something that is really taking its toll on Brittany and she feels compelled to fix it as soon as humanly possible.

But, suddenly, she's on full alert.

Something sounding like a snarl echoes in the night. It's far away, but getting closer.

Brittany opens her mouth again, ready to keep talking but Santana holds her hand up when she realizes Brittany didn't hear the noise. She closes her mouth, worry spreading quickly over her face, and waits for Santana, trusting her to know what's going on and tell her when everything is OK.

Now there's footsteps, fast approaching footsteps and Santana swears under breath.

Santana spots a small alley close to them and moves to hide, but it's, like, really fucking small. It barely fits them, however Santana manages to practically carry Brittany the few feet towards the entrance and squeeze them as far in as space allows them. They make it about a quarter way through, and right in the middle Brittany opens her mouth to say something so she has to cover it with her hand tightly.

There's no time to explain, mostly because explaining her Slayer sense now to someone like Brittany, who had trouble with the amount of lyrics she was required to retain for Glee, was futile. The point now was to live.

No. The point was for _Brittany_ to live.

She now knows, from her experience with Quinn, how hard it was to fight when she has someone's immediate safety on her mind. Not to mention that there was no way of knowing if there was more than one vampire lurking in the shadows, waiting to ambush.

It was her own mistake to assume that all these newbies were uncoordinated morons. Obviously there was someone pulling the strings.

None of those thoughts were even close to registering right now, however. Not when she knows there is, at least, one vampire lurking around and Brittany in the proximity.

They lock eyes and, even though Santana's Slayer sense is elsewhere, tracking the vampire and making sure he doesn't come near and (if he does) she begins planning her attack, she can't help the heat that spreads throughout her body by being this close to the blonde. It's not the easiest multitasking she's ever done. Brittany is not stupid, despite her reputation, and she knows that something bad is happening. She trusts Santana enough to know that she's pressed their bodies close together in this alley for a reason.

A reason that is suddenly lost on Santana.

Her lips are pressed against her hand that is pressed against Brittany's mouth. It's hard to pay attention to her Slayer senses, even though they're going off like a car alarm at this point. Her eyes lock onto Brittany's, silently urging the blonde to stay quiet and still.

The look she gets back is trusting, but laced with fear. She doesn't have time to worry about that though. Her hand falls from Brittany's mouth and manages to maneuver itself around to her back pocket where she stuffed a small, sharp, wooden stake.

They're still too close together, though. It's clouding Santana's mind because not only does Brittany not know about vampire and demons, but she doesn't know how Santana really feels. Especially how she feels pressed flush up against her like this.

It's like she's two different people right now: the Slayer and the girl trying her damndest not to take advantage of her best friend. The vampire still seems to be heading in their direction but has slowed down some, obviously looking for them.

Brittany's eyes, however, are still studying Santana's face and their mouths are millimeters apart. Santana's not sure how she can be this hyper-aware of danger and turned on at the same time, but she is and it's not working out well considering their situation.

Also, again, there's the part where Brittany's unaware of her feelings and scared shitless because, technically, they are in mortal danger.

They're pressed far enough in the alley that, when she turns her head slightly to the right, she sees a figure dart past the opening. Instinctively, her hands move to Brittany's arms, squeezing tightly, securely even. The feeling of urgency is still very much in the front of her nature, but she feels the vampire move away and hunting elsewhere.

She knows she should go after him, but can't find the energy to move.

Brittany is looking back at her and Santana doesn't have the strength to tell the blonde that she should run home and not look back.

"What was that?" she whispers into Santana's face, the breath hot and arousing against her cheek.

Santana shushes her, however, because her Slayer sense begins tingling again. Her hand clamps once again over Brittany's mouth and she watches the opening of the alley for several minutes.

Brittany obeys and waits. She has no idea what Brittany was going to say to her but, as far she knew, the blonde was probably still upset with her behavior these past weeks. That was the beauty of their relationship, even if Brittany was mad at Santana, she still trusted that she wanted the best for her. Wanted to keep her safe.

That was the main objective right now.

The immediate danger is over, so it seems, but she can't help herself and keeps Brittany in the alley a while longer. Once again, she moves her hand away from Brittany's mouth, but lets it settle against her cheek, her thumb stroking the soft skin. "Are you OK?" she whispers almost inaudibly.

Brittany nods once in response, her one hand coming up to rest on top of Santana's. "What was that?" she asks in the smallest voice she ever heard come out of anyone.

"It was something bad," she answers as simply as she can without lying too much to Brittany. "We should wait here for a little bit, though…just in case."

The blonde wants to say something. Argue, protest, chip in, _something_, but Santana can't have it right now. They've been talking too much and if she wants the vampire to stay away she needs Brittany to be quiet.

"We can't talk right now, B," she says quietly, even though she's wanted nothing more than to talk to her best friend for days now. Santana still feels her friend's argument and finally lets her guard down and pleads, "Please Brittany…_please_ trust me."

It's enough. She feels Brittany relax, as much as she can in the situation, and sees the understanding in her eyes. Now satisfied that Brittany will wait, she turns her attention back to the entrance and for any indication that they're still in danger.

But…it's a little hard to concentrate because, _damn_, Brittany's mouth is just so close to Santana's and her eyes are just burning holes into her face. Her senses are still relaxed and her body shifts priorities when Brittany suddenly leans forward and ghosts her lips over the corner of Santana's mouth.

It's weird, and it keeps getting weirder because Santana turns back to Brittany and then they're kissing.

There are a few reasons this is weird. First, and most important, they're best friends. Sure, Santana's thought about this moment over and over again, but the fact that it's actually _happening_ is just…weird, again.

Second. They're still, technically, in danger.

This is not how people act in these situations. Santana knew how scared Brittany was moments ago, and that made her scared because of the feelings she has for the girl and now they're kissing. It's not normal.

She thinks about the third reason this is weird, but only briefly. That reason is because the alley is fucking _small_ and offers no room for maneuvering. The hand that was pressed against Brittany's cheek has slid down to her neck while her other hand found a nice place to rest on Brittany's thigh, her finger tips relishing the feel of soft, smooth skin that resides under the pleats of her Cheerio's uniform.

Brittany's hands find their way to her sides, resting painfully close to Santana's breasts and spreading out along her ribs. It's still tight and kind of uncomfortable, but _so_ right.

Then, it stops being weird, or she stops thinking about it and just focuses on Brittany's tongue tracing her lips. She hesitates, still trying to grasp that this is happening, but opens her mouth just enough to let Brittany in.

The girl knows what she's doing, and she kind of gets why everyone ends up making out with Brittany. The blonde tilts her head a little, giving her better access and Santana can't help but moan. A little too loudly though. It causes something in her to rip her mouth away from Brittany's and look back to the opening.

It doesn't stop Brittany from leaving a trail of kisses along her jaw before she bites at Santana's ear lobe. It's distracting and she hears herself groan, but she can feel the vampire's presence fast approaching. Something takes over, the _Slayer_ takes over, and she turns back to Brittany.

"Do. Not. Move," Santana orders quietly, emphasizing each word. She registers the acknowledgement before she's out of Brittany's grasp and sliding out of the alley.

As soon as she rounds the corner there's a vampire there. A student. Someone she doesn't recognize, but he's wearing a letterman jacket and Santana allows herself less than a moment to feel bad, because she's going to kill another one of her classmates, before she pulls the stake out of her back pocket and up into the boy's chest without any struggle.

The dust gets carried away by a gust of wind. She watches it float away while her senses strain for any sign of more danger.

"Is everything OK?'

The question causes her to jump, her stake clattering to the ground as she turns to face Brittany.

"I told you to stay in the fucking alley," she hisses, harsher than she intended but it was because she still wasn't sure they were safe.

"I got worried about you," Brittany tells her like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Then, she points to fallen stake. "What's that?"

Santana shrugs, kicking the stake away, "A stick."

"It's sharp-"

"It's not important, B," Santana dismisses. "I should get you home."

"We should talk about what happened," Brittany suggests.

Santana had gotten caught up in the quick staking and cover up that she forgot about what took place not even five minutes ago. It's fairly obvious, though. Brittany's lips are swollen and her gloss is smudged, evidence of the intense kiss they shared.

The kiss that they _just_ shared.

Brittany kissed her, and she kissed back.

Now, Santana couldn't breathe properly. Brittany steps forward, further out of the alley, and, for some fucking, stupid reason, she steps back. Brittany scrunches up her face in confusion and Santana finds her voice. "I should get you home," she repeats, shaking her trying to get herself back to thinking clearly.

It's not working.

Brittany begins talking, saying that they kissed and that they have to talk about it, but it all sounds fuzzy and far away. She looks past the blonde and sees a lone figure a few blocks down, too far away for anyone to make out.

Except for Santana, she can see Matt Rutherford, clear as day, standing and watching them.

Smiling the creepiest smile she's ever seen.

Then she remembers the other night, drinking with Quinn and thinking that she saw him. Stupidly, she chalked it up to the alcohol but now she knew that this was real. It was still confusing, however, because there was no sense of danger, no need to remove them from the situation or reach for a weapon. They just watched each other for long moments.

Brittany snaps her fingers in front of Santana's face, grabbing her attention. "Have you been listening?" she asks, clearly annoyed. Santana opens her mouth to reply, but spares a glance back to Matt. "What are you looking at?"

"Don't-"

It's too late, Brittany is already looking behind her but, now, there's nothing there. Matt disappeared again and she's not sensing any danger.

Well, any mortal danger.

Brittany turns back, frustration now very prominent on her features. "OK, what the hell is going on?"

"I have to get you home," she tells Brittany, not trusting herself to say anything else.

"But-" she tries to argue, but Santana cuts her off.

"No buts, Brittany. We have to go."

She doesn't say anything, just turns on her heel and starts walking in the direction of her home. Santana curses at herself and jogs the few feet forwards to walk along side Brittany. She keeps her eyes forward, but still notices the way Brittany glances sideways at her.

They should talk about things, about what happened, but she has no idea what to say. Luckily, Brittany doesn't push anymore because Santana is still kind of in denial about the whole thing. Every scenario she had ever thought of when she thought about just telling Brittany how she felt never started with Brittany making the first move.

What the fuck did it mean? That Brittany had been thinking about kissing her? That Brittany had _feelings_ for her?

Life would _so_ do that to Santana.

They're standing in front of Brittany's house before she knows it, and she stops in front of Santana. "I want you to come in," she says. "Well, I'll have to sneak you in…but I want you to come in and I want us to talk about what's been happening."

She wants to say yes. More than anything, she wants to go inside and tell Brittany everything. Seeing Matt tonight changed all of that. Once she got Brittany inside (hopefully without completely fucking everything up) she had to finish patrolling and try to find Matt.

She had to figure out what was happening because, clearly, there was something bigger happening.

"I want to-"

"But…you can't," Brittany finishes for her, anger and frustration very apparent in her tone . "And you can't tell me why."

"What happened in the alley, B…" Santana begins. She doesn't want to talk about it, but feels the need to address it. Of course she can't think of a single thing to say after she starts. "I've wanted to…I…we'll talk, I want to talk, but not now."

Brittany's mouth forms a thin line and she bobs her head once before storming up her walk way towards the front door and slamming it shut once she's inside.

"Shit."

**xxxxx**

"I went back to where I saw him and kept expanding my search into new areas and trying to look for a pattern but…there was nothing. I couldn't find Matt."

The looks she got from Quinn, Mr. Schuester, and Sue Sylvester were shock, concerned yet thoughtful, and a mixture of anger and disappointment, all in that order.

As soon as the day got started, she made it a point for the three to meet up so she could go over everything and tell them about the other night at the cemetery, something she mistakenly just chalked up to the alcohol. They needed to put their heads together, they needed to figure out what was going on and make some kind of plan. More students were reported missing and it was her job to stop it.

"Why didn't you mention seeing Matt before?" Mr. Schue asks. "At the cemetery?"

Her eyes meet Quinn's and the blonde nods, a silent pact that they don't have to really bring up the underage drinking and add fuel to the burning fire. "It was just a flash," Santana tells them. "And I was distracted by Quinn…I thought I imagined it and forgot until I saw him last night."

"Do you think he's behind the disappearances?" Will asks.

"Not in general," she shakes her head. "Someone obviously turned him and has been keeping him close, making him watch me. I'm not even sure if he's a vampire…he hasn't been close enough for me to feel anything."

Will nods along when an idea strikes him, "Or he knows enough to stay away so you can't know for sure. Your senses only work if a vampire is close enough in your vicinity or they plan on attacking you."

It makes sense, but she still can't figure out what kind of plan they have, if there's a _they_ and if _they_ have one.

Mr. Schue and Sue start bouncing ideas off each other while still managing to sling insults back and forth (well, Coach was insulting Will) while Santana sat down and began to chew lightly on her finger nail.

There had to be something they were missing, something that's significant but easy to look over. She thought about Karofsky, Jacob, the random jock she staked last night and Matt as she tuned out the rest of the people in the room

Three guys that had letterman jackets and fucking Jew Fro.

What connected them?

Other than being students and in her class she came up with nothing. She starts thinking about the list of kids she couldn't help but memorize (and that she kept adding names to), trying to find some kind of connection. Again, they're all just students and in her class. Even though she's only had run ins with guys, there's some girls on the list. A couple Cheerios and girls from other sports teams, a member of the Celibacy Club, some band nerds…

It's all way too random.

Then it hits her.

"They're all from different groups," she says, getting the other three's attention even though she's just, basically, thinking out loud. "The students…the disappearances…they're all from my class and they're all from different groups…different extracurricular activities or sports."

Will looks like he's about to dismiss her idea, but stops and grabs his own missing students list off a stack of papers. He scans as Sue waits for him to confirm or deny and Quinn furrows her brow in a way that tells Santana she's on to something.

"I'm right, aren't I?"

He nods grimly. "Why though?"

There was still that part to figure out.

"Do vampires know what a Slayer is?"

All the attention turns to Quinn. "I mean…" she looks at Will and Sue. "You two only knew about everything a little bit longer than Santana. She was called because of the rise in vampires lately, but…do they know who the Slayer is?"

"The older ones do," Sue answers, all annoyance gone from her voice and something that sounds weirdly human laced in her tone. "There's no way of knowing _who_ the girl is, though."

"It's always a young girl, right?" Santana asks. "Someone my age? If someone thought a Slayer was called..."

Everything suddenly makes sense.

Her thought is dropped off and she just sits there with her jaw hanging open and an unsettling feeling in her stomach. She was solely responsible for all the disappearances, not just because she flaked off of patrolling last weekend, but…

"They're looking for you," Mr. Schue finishes quietly.


	7. Chapter 6

**Title:** Just A Girl (6/10?)  
**Author:** Race122VE (Coll)  
**Pairing:** Santana/Brittany  
**Rating:** R (mostly language, then violence and some semi sexiness as the fic goes on)  
**Summary:** _"But…you're just a girl." _Glee AU fic.  
**Word Count:** Over 6k.  
**Disclaimer:** All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.

**Chapter 6**

"That's a terrible idea."

Santana shoots a glare at Quinn. "Just because you know about me and hang out during our meetings doesn't mean that you actually get a say in what happens."

"Santana-" Mr. Schue scolds, but it doesn't stop either of them.

"I'm so sorry, S, for actually _caring_ about you and whether or not you die," Quinn replies, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Which is what will happen if you go through with this."

"Well…I don't see any other way," she shrugs. "I want to find out what's going on, and the only way we can do that is if I get my hands on one of the vampires."

"You can do that on patrol, in the cemetery," Quinn argues. "I don't know why you have to bring this whole thing here…why you think you have to do this alone."

"Who's supposed to help me?"

She hates the way her voice cracks, hates the bitterness behind the question, and hates the way the word 'alone' can cause the kind of internal suffering she's feeling right now. Even with these three people in the room, knowing her secret and wanting to help (well, mostly wanting to help. Santana doubted Sue would be here if given the choice), she knows that she will always feel alone.

"You can give me all the support in the world, Mr. Schue can help me learn the root of my powers, Coach Sylvester can make sure I'm as physically prepared for a fight as I'll ever be, but in the end it all falls on me."

They all take it in, in Sue's case, again, she's not all too impressed but also doesn't say anything back, but they all seem less likely to argue with her about the plan.

A plan that is still in the works, but whatever.

In spite of wanting to throw up from the cheesiness of her stupid fucking speech, Santana is actually proud of herself for taking responsibility for everything, for stepping up. Not to mention that she's fucking tired of just being on defense. If she wants to find out what the hell is going on and to have a chance to end it she's got to go on the offense.

"I get that," Quinn says a little softer, but still concerned. "I just don't really get how it's a good idea."

"If we're right, they're looking for me. They're trying to find the Slayer," she repeats herself from earlier, finding that talking her semi constructed plan is actually helpful. "If Matt's been following me around then he probably thinks I'm the Slayer so…I set a trap. I make them come here, in the choir room, because there's only one way in and one way out. I take care of whoever they send for me, leave one, and make them tell me who's behind everything."

"There's a lot of 'if' on this plan," Sue points out, nose turned upward at the suggestion.

"Anybody have anything better?"

Defeated, Quinn lets out a heavy sigh. "I still want to help," she insists.

She's ready to dismiss Quinn's offer again, but then she's struck with an idea. They still need to set the bait, still need to get the vampires to the choir room the next night. "OK," she agrees. "You up for a late night stroll?"

**xxxxx**

"I still think this is a terrible idea."

Santana groans into the night. "And I still think you should shut the fuck up about it."

She can feel Quinn's glare and tries to focus on scanning the area trying to pick up on anything instead of being amused by her friend's annoyance. It wasn't too late out, a little past ten, and the idea was for them to just be out for a walk.

While Quinn was here to help, and clutching a vile of holy water Santana gave her to her chest like her life depended on it, the plan was to _not_ be attacked tonight. Not until she took Quinn home in a little bit before doubling back to other areas so she could patrol.

"OK, so…we're just out for a walk and…talking about things."

"Gold star for Quinn," she replies, wincing at her words while Quinn laughs. "I've been listening to Rachel Berry for…well, I've _actually_ been listening to her. That's enough of a travesty."

"Rachel's not that bad you know."

Santana freezes. "You did not just say that."

Quinn shrugs. "Stop being so overdramatic. I think we're all way past the point of hating the Glee Club and everyone in it. Beside…you quit the Cheerios and fought to stay in Glee Club, you have no right to judge."

Santana wants to argue, _should_ argue, but Quinn's right. "If someone told us before Sophomore year we'd all be in the Glee Club I'd punch them in the face," she chuckles before her mood suddenly shifts. "Everything's so different now."

"Wow," Quinn says, eyebrows raised. "Way to bring down the mood."

"Fuck you," she fires back lightly.

They both laugh and Santana has never really appreciated normalcy until she finds herself getting caught up in moments like this, whether it be with Quinn, Puck, or Brittany, she finds she wants the moment never to end.

This particular moment comes crashing to a halt when she thinks about Brittany.

The whole day went by without a glimpse of the blonde. Normally, she would dwell on it more, but her mind had become preoccupied. Still, she knew eventually she was going to have to deal with that. It was just more incentive to try to make this plan work, to (hopefully) figure out who was behind all this and fucking stop them.

"You know," Quinn begins and she knows already that whatever is about to follow is something she's going to hate. "Brittany told me about last night."

She can feel her eyes go wide, but only for a moment. She reigns herself in, trying not to freak the fuck out because Quinn most likely didn't know _everything_ that happened last night. She had also told Quinn, along with Mr. Schue and Sue, about last night. She said how she saw Brittany alone, how she killed that vampire, saw Matt, and then went searching for him after dropping Brittany off.

That kiss they shared was sitting comfortably in the denial section of her brain.

"Oh," she feigns disinterest, but it kind of backfires because Quinn might have been cool with letting things slide today, but now, apparently, she's been talking to Brittany and probably has things to say. Things that Santana does not want to hear.

Or maybe she does. She is curious, after all, of just how much Quinn knows and what's going on in Brittany's mind. Still, she can't come off as too eager to talk about this or else Quinn will find a way to drag all of the information out of her.

"Something happened," she says and Santana can feel Quinn's eyes watching her when she pauses. "She didn't tell me any more than you did, but something happened…and she was pissed that you just ditched her-"

"Oh. OK." She can feel herself getting angrier, and she's playing right into Quinn, but she keeps going anyway. "I'm sorry there was a fucking _vampire_ that I had to kill. Not to mention fucking Matt. What the fuck was I supposed to do? Brittany can't know."

"You know, no one is saying that you have to tell Brittany what you are." Quinn tells her through gritted teeth.

She's taken back because, why the fuck is Quinn suddenly pissed? "That's not what I-"

"Shut up," Quinn snaps. "You have this secret, fine…whatever. That doesn't automatically mean you have to throw away your best friend. You could try to not be a complete bitch to her."

In the moment after Quinn finishes, Santana knows that she's done. She's done with it all.

All the guilt she's been carrying around, her sudden burst of taking the initiative and bringing the fight to the vampires, her anger at how unfair everything is for her, and _has_ been for her, just falls away. She's so sick of it all, so tired of lying and, even though everything in her mind is screaming 'no,' she breaks down and realizes that she does need at least _one_ person to know all of her secrets.

"She kissed me last night," Santana mumbles, so low she barely heard herself, but Quinn is staring back, mouth hung open in shock.

_Obviously_ she heard.

The vile she had been holding slipped from her now limp fingers and shattered on the ground, loudly. "Dammit, Quinn! Do you know how fucking hard it is to get holy water?"

"Brittany kissed you," Quinn repeats shrilly, ignoring the shards of glasses now littered around their feet. "Brittany. Kissed you. _She_ kissed _you_. _Brittany kissed you_."

"Have you said it enough times in a row?" she replies, annoyed. "Yes, she fucking kissed me…and, you know, we're not being very stealthy right now."

"Fuck the vampires," Quinn says with a wave of her hand. "I can't believe she kissed you."

Santana rolls her eyes. It's kind of what she expected from Quinn Fabray, Miss Goody Two-Shoes, but still kind of disappointing after her whole 'you can tell me anything…I'm not going anywhere' bullshit. "Why because we're two girls? Get over it."

"No, moron," Quinn fires back. "Because you're the one that has a thing for her. I thought you would have made the first move."

She's about to rip into Quinn again when the words actually register. "What?"

"You must really think I'm that naive," Quinn laughs. "Or…you're just that unaware of how obvious you are."

Her breathing picks up pace, and she's pretty sure she's going to have a stroke or something. She bends forward, resting her hands on her knees repeating 'shit, shit, shit' over and over for long moments. This is kind of harder to accept than the whole supernatural thing, which should just speak volumes about how crazy it all is.

When Quinn walks over and places a hand on her back, she flinches at first, but relaxes and stands straight. Quinn looks into Santana's eyes, and she feels her body calm down, her breathing becomes easier, and Quinn's hand is now resting on her shoulder, strong and warm.

"It's OK," she assures Santana. "It _is_."

Santana chuckles in disbelief, "Yeah?"

"Well," Quinn shrugs. "She _did_ kiss you first."

She takes another deep breath at Quinn's words, the panic threatening to come forward again. "That's the point," she tells Quinn. "Brittany is the one thing that I've wanted this much. Now…"

Something catches her eye across the cemetery.

Whatever she was saying drops and she focus her attention on to a figure dashing through the head stones. She doesn't feel anything, doesn't feel threatened, but this might be the break she's been looking for.

Time to _try_ to set her trap.

"Now!" she continues much louder, throwing her voice not only at Quinn but into the darkness. "We're going to have rehearsals in the Choir Room tomorrow night…_late_…because that _girl_ keeps breaking all the shit in the auditorium."

Quinn's eyebrows shoot up. "What the hell are you talking about? And why are you yelling?"

Santana purses her lips and holds back a growl. "I was just telling you, while we're out for our walk, how Mr. Schue changed the location of rehearsals," she says pointedly. "You know, cause we have to talk to _her_ about that strange behavior. About knocking people over and being out really late-"

"Oh!"

Her eyes roll, and she's hoping that Matt or whoever the fuck is stalking around can't see, before continuing, "Yeah. So, like I said, Glee is going to be in the Choir Room tomorrow night. _Late_."

"Yes. Tomorrow. Late. At night."

The stiff, robotic like tone paired with the way her head bobs with each word makes Santana think that Quinn can safely rule out 'acting' from her possible future careers.

She's scanning the cemetery again, unable to make out anything. Her eyes come back to Quinn and she motions her head to the side. "Let's go."

"What about the…?" Quinn motions to the ground where there's evidence of the former weapon that Santana would allow Quinn to carry.

At first, she's pissed and is searching her brain for a way to quickly clean it up.

Then, she smiles. "Leave it. When they see it they'll definitely bite."

Her hand grabs Quinn's elbow and she yanks them in the direction that will take them back to Quinn's house.

"I know you're tired of hearing me say this, but I really don't like this idea," Quinn blurts out when they reach her block.

Normally, she'd be pissed that Quinn is saying the same thing…_again_, but the fear in her voice softens Santana. "You get why I have to do it though," she responds. "Right?"

Quinn nods quickly, taking a deep breath and trying to pull herself together. "What about the Brittany thing?" she asks after a moment, eyeing Santana.

"What about it?"

It's not like she doesn't want to talk about it. Well, she kind of doesn't want to talk about it, but her answer was honest. What more was there? Nothing's changed other than Brittany _probably_ having feelings for her. Santana was still a vampire Slayer, she was still in mortal danger (more so now than ever since she was called), and she had nothing to offer Brittany.

"Santana…"

The pity and compassion behind the way Quinn utters her name nearly kills Santana. Nowadays, with everything happening, she can only handle so much conversation about her life and her feelings.

"I've kind of had my fill of heart to hearts tonight, Q."

At least this time, when she cuts Quinn off and tries to dismiss the subject, she does it on good terms. She hopes its good terms, anyway. Quinn's still looking back skeptically, like she's internally debating whether or not to keep pushing.

"Come on, either rip me a new one or dismiss me," Santana says, getting impatient. "I've got shit to do."

Quinn's fighting a smile as she responds, "I'll pick you up tomorrow."

**xxxxx**

It's another uneventful day at school.

Sure, Quinn tries to talk to her some more about Brittany and the plan but dodging that proves fairly easy. Later, when the three of them are joined by Sue, she finds out that Mr. Schue isn't a big fan of the plan either. Kind of shockingly, but not at the same time, Coach declares that she's with Santana.

And, yeah, OK…she suggests that Mr. Schue's hair can be used as a weapon if they aim one of the spot lights on to it and then have it bounce off into the vampire's eyes, but Santana is glad that someone else gets that this has to be done.

Mr. Schuester does offer to stay, just in case, but Santana tells him no.

Selfishly, she still wants the usual Glee Club meeting to happen, because they're picking their numbers for Regionals. She convinces Mr. Schue to have the meeting at his place, that way the school is completely empty except for her and her bag of stakes.

There's more arguing and yelling and reasoning before they all agree.

Now, here she is, slinging her bag over her shoulder and taking a deep breath before heading towards the choir room to set up.  
Suddenly, as she continues down the hall, her mind was just everywhere in record time.

True to form, she had been ignoring the nerves and anxiousness she felt when she thought about tonight. About it going down, whether it would go down, what the outcome might be…

Just as quickly as her mind got cluttered, everything goes away when she sees Brittany round the corner at the end of the hall. It stops her dead and Brittany freezes as well. The only time she really had to think about Brittany had been at night, when she laid in bed and _tried_ to go to sleep. That's when it all would stop, as soon as her head hit the pillow.

The Slayer turned off, or at least got muted, and Santana turned on, which meant that all she could think about was Brittany. The past two nights, however, had been about Brittany kissing her. She would close her eyes and not fall asleep but transport back to that moment.

She could still taste Brittany's root beer lip gloss, smell her citrusy scent, and feel the way her body pressed perfectly against her own, even though they were squeezed into a small, uncomfortable space. It was both amazing and painful at the same time because, as soon as she woke up (if she even got any sleep to begin with), she would be the Slayer again and Brittany would be the one that was muted.

Yeah, there are always her run ins with the blonde, and Quinn bringing her up, but she hasn't seen Brittany since they kissed.

They just stand there, like two idiots, staring at each other from opposite ends of the same hallway.

The Slayer part of her brain slowly fights its way back to the forefront and Santana starts to panic slightly because Brittany is standing at the other end of the hallway. In school. Late, when no one else is supposed to be here.

When the vampires are supposed to come so she can ambush them.

Fuck.

Now, the immediate plan is to get Brittany the fuck out of school and over to Mr. Schue's, where she _should_ be, as soon as possible.

Brittany starts walking forward when Santana remembers how to use her feet, through her internal commotion, and she practically jogs the few feet towards the girl.

"Hey."

The way Brittany greets her tells Santana that she isn't picking up on her body language, at all, which means she's going to, _again_, fuck up any chance of salvaging their relationship by quickly dismissing her and being a bitch.

"You're supposed to be at Mr. Schuester's."

"_We're_ supposed to be at Mr. Schuester's," Brittany corrects. "I was just leaving."

It makes sense. Brittany still had another half hour to get to the meeting, the same amount of time she had to set up. She tries to calm down as best she can, given the circumstances. Alarming Brittany wouldn't help anyone, so now she just had to get her out of here quickly. She could deal with the blonde being mad at her as long as she was safe.

Well, she would have no choice but to deal with it.

"We can go together. I was going to walk anyway-"

"Walk? No...just..." she scolds. "It's dark out, Brittany,"

Brittany raises her eyebrows in response. "It's only, like, fifteen minutes away."

"Well…just be careful." Santana sighs, knowing what comes next.

"You're not going to come with me?"

She can't help the wince that spreads across her face, but she goes on with it regardless. "I got something I have to do first."

"I'll come with you-"

"Brittany, no!" she shouts. "You have to fucking get out of here and go to the fucking meeting. You can't come with me."

If she's feeling so much pain from saying these words, she doesn't want to imagine how it makes Brittany feel.

Which is why her angry tone is surprising to Santana. "Was the other night really that horrible that you can't even _stand_ to be around me anymore?"

"No," she chokes out, but Brittany doesn't leave her anytime to recover.

"Was it the kiss?" she asks roughly. "You didn't want to? Because you seemed pretty into it-"

"Brittany-"

Brittany's hand comes up, stopping Santana before she continues. "I've given you space. I know that you freak out easily when something big happens, on top of this secret thing you've been keeping from me, and I get that you need time, but it's been way too long and now I'm tired of it."

Something about the way Brittany turns and storms off down the hallway sets something off inside Santana. Before she can let any rational part of her brain take over, she's striding forward and catching Brittany's elbow with her hand. She yanks her backward and spins the blonde so they're facing each other again.

"Do you think it's easy for me?" she hisses out. Her grip on Brittany's elbow tightens and Santana ignores the way Brittany's mouth drops open in pain and tugs her even closer. "I can't tell you what's going on, and it's tearing me up because you're the _only_ person I want to talk to about this."

Brittany still looks skeptical, so she shifts her grip so it becomes more comforting than urgent. She tries to open herself up as best she can, with the exception of her destiny, a place that she can't shed any light on, and just hopes that Brittany sees it.

"If there's any part of you that still trusts me, after all this time and everything we've been through, I need you to try to listen to that part, Britt," she pleads. "I need you to trust that whatever I do, I'm doing it to keep you safe."

"What about the kiss?" she asks softly as she steps closer, eliminating any space between them.

Santana can't help but notice the way Brittany's clear, blue eyes keep flickering down to her lips. She swallows and takes in a deep breath when Brittany dips her head and tilts slightly to the left. Their noses brush together and Santana watches as Brittany's eyes flutter shut and her face just hovers there.

All she has to do is tilt her head up and they would be kissing. It's what Brittany's waiting for. For Santana to meet her half way.

But she can't.

And she fucking hates herself.

Scratch that. She hates her fucking destiny because, right now, she does not have time for this.

Right now, vampires could be on their way to the school and Brittany couldn't be here for that.

"You really need to get to that meeting," Santana chokes out as she steps back.

Brittany's eyes open and she straightens up and rests her hands on her hips. Santana's expecting anger, disappointment, and frustration. What she gets is a small smile. "I trust you," she tells Santana quietly. "But this pull away thing you do is still getting old."

She feels her head nod, but she's on autopilot because the Slayer is still pulling her away from this moment. From Brittany. There really is no time for her to properly deal with this, so she shuts her mouth and just hopes that Brittany's finished.

For now, at least.

"I'll see you there then," Brittany says as she walks backwards, letting her eyes linger on Santana for a few moments more before turning around.

As soon as Brittany's gone, she shuts off that part of her brain and nearly runs to the Choir Room. It's dark and empty and Santana flips on the lights because, while she can see better in the dark, the point is for the vampires to think there's a meeting happening.

Shit.

There's supposed to be a Glee Club meeting. There should be music or something. It's not really what she should be worried about at the moment, but her eyes scan the room and fall on a dock resting on a corner in the table. She walks over, fishing her iPod out of her bag on the way, and plugs it in.

There's a playlist that has songs they've been rehearsing as well as songs that Rachel, because in addition to stealing their cell phones and reprogramming them, she did the same with their iPods, has selected as possible solos.

Santana's still on alert, her senses are still turned up as far as they can go, but when she hits play and the soft strum of a guitar fills the choir room she rolls her eyes at how, of fucking course, a song like this would come on.

_Now that I've lost everything to you  
You say you want to start something new  
And it's breaking my heart that you're leavin  
Baby I'm grievin_

The lyrics are in her head, because the music Rachel put on was just instrumental, and Santana closes her eyes, letting her mouth fall open and the rest of the words come out.

_But if you wanna leave take good care  
Hope you have a lot of nice things to wea  
r But then a lot of nice things turn bad out there_

There's another small guitar break. She opens her eyes and lets the music wash over her, calm her, somehow, and continues to sing when the song reaches her cue.

_Oh baby baby it's a wild world  
It's hard to get by just upon a smile  
Oh baby baby it's a wild world_

As the song goes on, and she continues singing, she remembers why she wanted to hold on to Glee Club in the first place. She never would've admitted it to anyone, she's still not sure she can, but this is something she thought she might want to do.

Before everything got yanked away and she would think about the future, she would think about going to college and getting into some sort of singing program, maybe theater.

There was one night before school started last year, and Brittany had just gotten back, when she and Quinn had crashed at Santana's house after a party. Quinn was sitting side ways on the recliner, passed out, instead of actually reclined, while Santana was on the couch with her feet propped up on the table and Brittany was leaning into her, head slumping over before jerking back as she tried to stay awake.

Santana didn't understand why the blonde was fighting so hard. They all had a lot to drink that night and it was late and the only light in the room came from the TV where old reruns of Saved By The Bell flickered on the screen. It wasn't even a good episode.

Who likes the one where Jessie and Zach hook up during that stupid rapping Snow White play?

Regardless, by the time Kelly and Slater had caught them, Brittany's body gave up and slumped on to Santana. The blonde's mouth was wide open and she began to snore lightly.

It was completely adorable and Santana knew she was a goner.

She also knew that a clear picture was forming in her head. One of her, Brittany, and maybe even Quinn graduating and getting as far away from Lima as they could.

That was before she found out that some higher power out there had other plans for her. She feels tears start to fill up her eyes at the memory, at the thought the thought that, once upon a time, she was allowed to think of what she would do when she gets to leave Ohio.

Santana rubs her eyes roughly and continues to sing and busy herself with checking the weapons she stashed in her bag.

_Baby I love you  
But if you wanna leave take good care  
Hope you make a lot of nice friends out there  
But just remember there's a lot of bad and beware_

Then there's a sound coming from down the hall.

It's a vampire, she knows it. The feeling, however, is coming from far away while she hears footsteps steadily approaching the choir room. Her mind mutes the music in the background, even though the actual volume hasn't changed, and her hands ball into fists, the right one clutching a stake.

Something's off though, but it just puts Santana more on her guard.

A shadow is now visible through the doorway and she rushes over to the side, flattening herself against the opposite wall and ready to spring on the attacker.

All she catches is a flash of blonde hair, that she doesn't have time to process, before she's lunging forward and tackling the stranger to the ground. Her body is getting ready to move for the next attack, hands grabbing the other girl's hands when she hears a familiar yelp of pain.

"What the hell, S?"

Fucking _Quinn_.

"What the hell to you, Quinn," Santana spits back, pushing herself to her feet and then tugging the blonde up to join her. "Why the fuck are you here?"

Quinn is hugging her body, doubled over in pain. "I think you bruised one of my ribs or something," she winces.

"You have to get out of here," Santana says.

"I wanted to help."

Even when she's in pain the bitch is still arguing back.

Santana can still sense the vampires and does not have time to worry about her friend.

"I don't have time to go over how ridiculous the idea of you helping me is," Santana tells her as she brings her hands up, resting her palms on her forehead and squeezing her eyes shut, trying to think of something.

It's hard, though. Her brain is everywhere at once because she still can't understand how she senses these vampires yet doesn't feel in immediate danger. She has enough time to think about getting Quinn somewhere safe, anyway.

"I just hated the idea of you being here alone," Quinn says.

"Well, I liked the idea of knowing that my best friend was safe at Schuester's," Santana fires back as her eyes dart around the room before resting on Mr. Schue's office. "You're going to get in that fucking office. You're going to lock both doors. Then you're going to hide under the fucking desk with this." She forces a sharpened stake in Quinn's hand and begins pushing her towards the door. "If something happens to me, I'll call out and you call the police and that should scare them off."

"Santana-"

"No! You don't get to argue with me, Quinn," Santana cuts her off and turns her head back towards the door when her senses ping again. "Later on, when all this is over, I'll be pissed at you for being such an idiot, but for now…I just want to make sure that I can yell at you later. Lock yourself in and-"

A blood curdling scream snaps both their head towards the door.

"That sounded like-" Quinn whispers thoughtfully, but is cut off again by another scream from the same person. Santana didn't hear it like Quinn the first time, but the second time it was unmistakable.

"Rachel," they said together as Santana bolts towards the door. She stops and rounds on Quinn when she hears the blonde begin to follow. "Did you think I was fucking kidding about the hiding thing?"

The look on Quinn's face shows how terrified she is right now, and Santana is fully aware that it's mostly her causing that fear. She doesn't have time to play around though. The trap was set, but something was seriously wrong and she had to have some sense that Quinn would just stay the fuck out of it.

She nods once, sharply, and Santana takes off.

Ignoring thoughts like 'why is Rachel at the school?' and 'why is Quinn always putting herself in mortal danger in the name of their friendship?' Santana begins to realize that both Rachel and the vampires she's been sensing are coming from the same place.

As she rounds a corner to a hallway, her body goes on full alert even though she's still running to…wherever the action is happening.

When Santana realizes that this particular hallway leads towards the auditorium, she curses under her breath. She knows that, somehow, the vampires mistook the auditorium with the choir room, but it doesn't matter when she burst through the doors at the top of the stadium seating and looks down on to the stage.

Of all the things she had the time to imagine she would see on her jog over here, none of them included the image of Puck lying face down in a pool of blood still spreading over the empty stage.

There's only a moment where she's allowed to stand, frozen in place, mouth hanging open, tears threatening to fall from her eyes, and thinking Puck is dead and Rachel's nowhere to be seen before she spots a figure moving in the wings. It's a flash, but she knows it's a vampire.

Santana also knows the school and the auditorium like the back of her hand. She backs out the way she came and rushes down the hall to cut off the vampire. She can hear the running footsteps up ahead, and only catches a glimpse of the vampire as he leaps forward and crashes through a window.

Her body prepares itself to follow him, but her senses are quieting. She knows that she could follow him, and probably catch him, but she also knows the vampires at the school are gone and Puck is probably dead and Rachel is missing and…

The tears fall and she doesn't try to stop them. Instead she runs back to auditorium, using the stage entrance nearby her and taking in the scene close up.

She walks by papers that were dropped and have fanned out to the floor and a bag she recognizes as Rachel's before stopping at Puck's body. Santana drops to her knees. The blood on the stage begins to soak through her jeans but she doesn't feel it.

She doesn't feel anything.

Actually she's feeling too many things that right now she's just numb and doesn't even know what to do.

Her hand reaches out towards his neck, but jerks back when she moves the collar of his letterman's jacket and sees two puncture wounds. Her balance is thrown off and she somehow manages to fall forward before scrambling back up into a kneeling position by Puck's body.

That's when she sees it.

Something shiny and a few feet away from Puck.

A bracelet. _Brittany's_ bracelet, curled up in the middle of the stage. Alone.

They exchanged them during their first year of high school, unknowingly buying the same bracelet for each other. Well, Santana had bought the one on display with the heart charm for the blonde. Brittany had talked to the clerk and found out she could choose a different charm and picked out a duck for Santana.

It was one of those crazy things that just made them both realize they were destined for friendship.

After long moments of laughter, Santana told Brittany that she should take the bracelet with the duck charm but she refused. Brittany insisted that she bought that particular bracelet for Santana and she wanted her to wear it, just like she wanted to wear the one Santana picked out.

Though she was never fully aware of her feelings, it was then that she knew she wanted Brittany in her life forever, even if it was just as a friend.

And now, there was a chance that she was gone.

Santana couldn't move, couldn't breathe, and she didn't even register when the door to the auditorium opened and Quinn ran down the stairs screaming her name.

It's not until Quinn is crouching down in front of her, a few inches away from where the blood has spread, that Santana looks away from the bracelet and into Quinn's hazel eyes.

"Santana," she begins softly. "S…you have to get out of here. The police are going to be here any minute and…you're covered in blood."

Once Quinn says it, the sound of sirens approaching in the distance floods her ears.

Slowly, the rest of the world starts to pull her away from this kind of outer body thing she's got going on. She could feel how fast her heart was beating against her chest, how rapid her breath was entering and leaving her body, and how disgusted she felt once she looked away from Quinn and down at her front that was covered in red.

Through all that, Santana can only focus on one thing.

"They've got Brittany," Santana lets out, the words sounding foreign on her tongue.

She watched the recognition, the reality, of her words hit Quinn, and, just as quickly, she watches as it turns into strength and calm. "All the more reason why getting arrested is not going to be the best course of action here," Quinn says. She stands and reaches a hand out for Santana. "You need to get up and get out of here."

Their hands clap together, and Santana finds herself shocked again at how much of Puck's blood she is covered in. Quinn's strength is beginning to slip at the sight as well, but she manages to help Santana stand then yank her hand back. "Get out of here," Quinn tells her once more.

She's halfway towards the door when she stops, turns around, and runs back to pick up Brittany's bracelet before leaving the auditorium.


	8. Chapter 7

**Title:** Just A Girl (7/10?)  
**Author:** Race122VE (Coll)  
**Pairing:** Santana/Brittany  
**Rating:** R (mostly language, then violence and some semi sexiness as the fic goes on)  
**Summary:** _"But…you're just a girl." _Glee AU fic.  
**Word Count:** Just about 4k.  
**Disclaimer:** All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.  
**Author's Note:** Apologies for the delay. Life has been kicking my ass. This part is also unbeta'd so, any mistakes belong to me. Also thanks to everyone who's been reviewing and sticking with me and enjoying the story. I'm gonna work really hard to get the next part up. And, even though there's a ? after 10, this story is looking to be ten parts, plus an epilogue. BUT...I am working on an outline for a sequel. So...yay! Anyway, enjoy...also, sorry about the short length, but ye'll got over 6k last time...

**Chapter 7**

Santana's standing in the middle of Will Schuester's kitchen when everything hits her.

When Quinn told her to leave, to run, Santana went on autopilot, the Slayer took over, whatever you want to call it. Quinn was right, she couldn't be at the school, she couldn't let the cops get a glimpse of her coated in Puck's blood, so she ran.

Minutes of running passed before her mind started to think about _where_ she was supposed to go.

Her house wasn't an option. She wasn't entirely sure what Quinn was going to say to the police or if her name was going to be brought up, but if it was their next stop would be her house. She spares a second to think about her mother's reaction to the police showing up before shoving it away.

There was no time for that.

Sue Sylvester was another option, probably the better one since she wanted to get herself together, come up with a plan (a good one that was going to work, this time) to save Brittany…and Rachel.

Now that she was standing in Mr. Schue's, after climbing a tree near his bathroom window and sloppily breaking in, she realized this was where she was supposed to go.

Because Santana needed to breakdown.

When she fell on to the tile floor of his bathroom, she cursed at the sound that it made. Glee Club was supposed to be having a meeting, after all, and the last thing she needed was for one of them to inspect what made the sound and discover Santana laying a top broken glass, covered in blood.

She remained crouched before slowly rising and stepping forward, tilting her ear towards the door and listening. She heard nothing and chanced opening the door a crack. The apartment was silent, dark, and empty.

Santana stepped out and into the kitchen when she first felt the all the feelings creep up on her.

The sight of an empty apartment when Mr. Schue was supposed to be here led her mind to think that vampires had come here too, that all of her friends were kidnapped or dead.

But reason stepped in, reminding her that vampires can't enter without an invitation, that the apartment was merely empty, not disheveled or showing any signs of a breaking in (other than where _she_ broke in).

The sudden fear, however, was too close to the surface to be contained.

Santana's body, exhausted from the run, gave up and her knees slam painfully on to the hardwood floor and she settles back on her legs. Tears are now freely flowing down her face, mixing with sweat and dried blood as she lets herself think about what just happened.

Brittany was gone. With Rachel. Puck was dead. Everything was shit.

And Santana is the one to blame.

After a couple minutes she's not even thinking anymore, she's just violently sobbing and shaking and trying to catch her breath as if she's drowning in her own tears.

Her hand comes up to wipe at the tears, but she stops and looks at it. It looks like something straight out of a horror movie, but Santana's focused on the way her hand is been balled into a fist and holding on to the one thing she has left of Brittany. On the way over it was the last thing she could think about, now it's the only thing.

It feels heavy, and she doesn't want to open her fist and see the remainder of Brittany bloody and tangled so she shoves it into her pocket.

The front door opens in the next room and her head snaps up, looking in that direction. She waits and listens to the shuffling as her eyes scan the kitchen for a makeshift weapon. Santana rises silently to her feet and walks over to the knife block, grabbing the largest handle and holding the knife in front of her.

Everything is still dark and her body is still buzzing from the fear and adrenaline pumping through her system that she doesn't pay any attention to her senses that are trying to calm her, reason with her, tell her that whatever's happening, it's not a vampire. But she ignores it. She's not going to let herself assume things anymore; she's going to cover all the bases.

The lights in the living room flip on and she shoots across the kitchen to flatten herself against the wall next to the entrance. The footsteps get closer and a hand darts forward, groping for the light switch in the kitchen. Santana grabs the wrist, yanking its owner into the kitchen and against her body, bringing the knife to settle against their neck.

"Santana!"

Of fucking course its Mr. Schuester, who else would it be?

But she's scared and upset and shaking and all she can do is loosen her grip on his body. He feels it right away and rushes forward, one hand rubbing his neck while the other clings to the kitchen counter with white knuckles.

He turns and his eyes go wide and his mouth drops open.

The knife she's holding is still extended in front of her, shaking because she can't keep her hand steady. She watches as Mr. Schue takes in her appearance, the blood. He swallows against his shock and steadies himself.

"Santana," he repeats, softer this time and holding his hand up in front of him. "It's OK. It's _safe_. Put the knife down."

Their eyes lock and she can sense his calm. She can feel it begin to slowly wash over her body and she lowers her hand and lets the knife clatter to the floor.

There are a million questions she wants to ask, but they stand and stare at each other a little longer. Her mouth opens and closes as stray tears still make their way down her face and Mr. Schue sees it, he gets it, so he starts to tell her what happened.

"I just came from the school," he begins. "I saw Quinn, but we didn't talk. The police were talking to her and decided to take her to the station where her dad would pick her up. Then I saw the paramedics were loading Puck into the ambulance-"

"Ambulance?" she questions.

Will nods, "They said he lost a lot of blood-"

"He's alive?" Santana asks, still not really believing what Mr. Schue is saying. "Puck's alive?"

He looks back at her and it's like he's seeing how the whole night has truly effected her and he knows exactly what to say and how to make her hear it.

"Puck _is_ alive."

Knowing that information…it feels like a win.

Then, just as soon as she begins to take comfort in something, Santana feels like she's betraying Brittany.

And Rachel, she keeps forgetting about Rachel and then feeling shitty about that too.

The small flicker of happiness, of relief, that she feels knowing Puck is alive and not dead like she thought is snuffed out and all the emotion swells and crashes down on her all over again.

Santana's legs are giving out once more before she knows it. She's falling back to the floor, but Mr. Schuester steps forward, catches her, and holds her close.

It should feel weird. She should be trying to push him away, screaming that he's some kind of pedophile and that she was going to get him fired. It's what the old Santana Lopez would have done.

A huge part of her wishes that she was still that mean girl. Just a stuck up bitch who had built up this wall so no one could get close. Then something like tonight happens. This huge thing that has the ability to change so much and she can't even fathom how anybody could act as selfishly and as mean as she once did.

Any time before, she'd push Mr. Schue away, but now she's leaning in, she's bringing her arms up to grasp on to his sleeves, and she's crying again.

Slowly, Mr. Schue kneels himself on to the ground and Santana folds her legs underneath her and continues to sob and hold on to Will for dear life.

She calms a little, but Will holds on tight and just continues talking.

"I was here first, with the Glee Club," he tells her. Each word, each piece of new information, soothes her and she just listens, realizing that he's starting from the beginning and plans on telling her everything.

It's exactly what she needs.

"You weren't here, obviously, and we were waiting on Quinn, Puck, Rachel, and Brittany," he says. "I didn't start to worry until I noticed Rachel was late. Mercedes said she had to stop by the school to pick up some sheet music."

_That's where she must have run into Brittany_, she thinks, squeezing her eyes shut against another onslaught of tears.

"After a while and no word from them I told everyone to go home and I rushed to the school and…"

"It's my fault," Santana chokes out.

"I know you're blaming yourself Santana, and it feels like the natural thing to do…but there's no way we could have predicted-"

"I ran into Brittany before going to the choir room," Santana snaps, suddenly angry and pushing Mr. Schue away. He loses his balance and slides backwards on the floor. "We were talking and…" she trails off, not sure if she can actually say aloud what she's thinking.

"I told her to go because I had to get to the choir room," Santana says. "I sent her away. I sent her to Rachel, and those mother fuckers fucking took them."

"It's not your fault," he tells her right away, not a trace of doubt in his voice.

"Bullshit," she spits back. "I sent her away."

"Because you thought the vampires were coming for _you _in the choir room," Mr. Schue fires right back, and if she wasn't a complete emotional wreck she'd be appreciating how well he's keeping up with her and her attitude. "There's no way of knowing what happened, Santana. The plan didn't work, people got hurt, and we don't know what happened, how, or why…but that's not important.

"The important thing is that we keep our heads on straight, because we're going to save them."

Mr. Schue pushes himself off the floor and walks over to Santana, offering her his hand.

She should take his hand, let him help her up and start planning something, but the guilt was weighing her down.

More specifically, the heaviness of the bracelet residing in her pocket.

"I couldn't even save them tonight," she reminds him, and she knows she's being counterproductive and self deprecating but she can't help it. "I don't even know where to start. We have…fucking jack shit to go on-"

"Which is why we have to regroup," he tells her, bending down and grabbing her hand in his own. "I know that you feel like you can't get up, that it's all hopeless, but you're not alone anymore Santana. I can't imagine how scary it was for you after you left the school and came here, but…"

He trails off, brows knitting together in confusion. "How, exactly, did you get in here?"

"I may or may not have…broken in through your bathroom window," Santana shrugs. "I couldn't come in through the lobby. Fucking look at me."

A deep sigh escapes from Mr. Schue as he nods and gives Santana a once over. He looks at their joined hands, turns them over and purses his lips in thought. "You need to get cleaned up," he tells her, tugging on her hand to get to her feet. "Come on. We'll start there, OK? I'll leave a T shirt and some sweat pants or something in my room for you to change into."

Santana may be a changed person, may have had her whole world shook up and flipped upside down to the point where she doesn't recognize anything anymore, but even she can't hide the scoff that comes out of her mouth, "Ugh…gross."

It lightens the mood as she pushes herself up with Mr. Schue's help who merely chuckles at the notion as well. "Yeah, you do have a point," he says. "I think Terri left a few things here. I can set some stuff out for you."

"Whatever," she mumbles as she makes her way to the bathroom. Santana pauses at the entrance, turns to look back at Will over her shoulder and offers him the closest thing to a smile she can muster.

"You're welcome," he replies, and she's glad to know that Will Schuester has come to know her well enough to know that her 'whatever' followed by a barely there smile is her way of telling him that's she's grateful for everything.

**xxxxx**

Mr. Schue had laid things out pretty well for her when she got out of the shower and stepped into his room. She threw on a plain, black T shirt followed by a pair of sweats and pulled her hair back into a tight, wet bun before looking up and at her reflection in the mirror across the room. Red, puffy eyes look back as she shovels her blood soaked clothes into a plastic bag Will had left.

Something about it all brought up all the emotions again, but she stamped them back down because now it was time to work. She'd wasted enough time crying, blaming herself, letting the hot, scolding water beat against her back as she furiously scrubbed the blood away from her arms and hands.

Santana couldn't afford this anymore. Brittany and Rachel couldn't afford it.

So Santana sets her jaw, tears her gaze from the mirror as she gathers the bag and exits the room just as Mr. Schue is getting off his cell phone.

There's a pause in him that when he looks up at her. The panic that she feels from his stare, even though he looks completely normal and calm, tenses every muscle in her body and she just instantly _knows_ something else has happened. "What?"

"I called Sue so she could get down to the police station and try to talk to Quinn," he says. "So we could get as much information as we can."

She's still tense, and the robotic way Mr. Schue is talking to her is not helping. "OK…"

"She didn't make it to the police station yet," he continues. "One of them found her."

Sue Sylvester may not be Santana's favorite person in the world, but the idea that something might have happened to her…

"They know she's a Watcher," Will goes on. "And they had a plan tonight too that got messed up. Sue's OK, she's going to get Quinn and bring her back here when she's done with the police cause her dad's out of town, and then we're all going to figure out where we go with what we know."

"But…" she starts out, brow furrowed in confusion. "We _still_ don't know anything."

Mr. Schue sighs, looking away from her and finally showing signs that her feelings are justified. "They want you," he says back, eyes looking downward. "They want to make a trade. They want the Slayer and they know they got it wrong…"

He trails off and she lets it sink in.

For the short time Santana has been a slayer she's faced some pretty fucked up shit, but nothing as organized and as big and scary as what she's dealing with now. There's something very _final_ about it all, something she can't really shake, but she knows, no matter what they all plan, what the inevitable outcome will be.

"Did they give Coach a location?"

Will snaps his head up, looking back suspiciously. "Not where they have Brittany and Rachel, no."

"But they told her _something_?" she presses.

"We should wait for Sue-"

"We both know what's eventually going to happen here," she cuts in. "I _have_ to make that trade. I don't have a choice."

"We are going to wait for Sue," he tells her, his voice firm and final.

But there is no way she's done. "They could fucking die," she argues as the thoughts of Brittany being surrounds by blood thirsty vampires. She shakes her head at the image of fangs tearing into Brittany's neck. "I just wasted time wiping blood off my body. I'm not going to have _her_ blood on my hands."

They both pick up on it as soon as the 'her' leaves Santana's lips. He's just as tense as she is, but something softens in his eyes. "We're all aware of how unavoidable a trade is going to be, Santana," he starts off cautiously. "All the more reason to take this slow. Come up with some sort of plan so you're not just marching into an ambush, fueled by rage."

He makes sense, somewhere inside she knows this, but how is she expected to just fucking sit around and wait?

She can't wait.

She needs an excuse, needs an out.

Even though she's always felt like punching Mr. Schue at certain times before, she really doesn't want to so it now that he's been taking care of her. It just feels weird and wrong and it's just another thing to add on to the huge pile of shit she has anyway.

The sound of a phone buzzing breaks the silence that filled the room. Mr. Schue sets aside the phone he's holding in his hand to fetch a new one from his pocket. _Her_ phone. She eyes him suspiciously as he hands it over. "I found it on the kitchen floor when I started cleaning up," he tells her. "You must have dropped it."

Santana looks at the screen and groans. "It's my mom."

Will looks down at his watch and sighs. "Glee Club was supposed to be over fifteen minutes ago," he says. "When I talked to your mom about this I told her I'd make sure you'd get home right away."

"How many times have you been talking to my mom?" she sneers.

Will shakes his head. "She's pretty worried about you," he responds. "I'm just trying to help make this easier for you."

"Well…what the fuck am I supposed to do now?" she gestures to the phone. "If I answer I'll have to go home."

"Maybe you should," he shrugs, rushing to continue when Santana opens her mouth to snap back. "We don't know how long Sue is going to be, and it's easier for you to put in some face time and then sneak back out."

_And try to find the vampires_ she thinks, trying to keep her face unreadable as her mind races with possibilities.

Santana takes in a deep breath. She can do this, Mr. Schue seems pretty convinced that's she's going to wait and do the logical thing here. A part of her is trying to argue that she _should_ listen, she should obey, and that going rogue is not the best thing to do.

But then she thinks about Brittany and all sane and logical thinking gets replaced with a strong urge to find the mother fuckers that took her and rip their heads off.

Will watches her, trying to read what's going on inside her head, but she doesn't let it show. She purses her lips and flips her phone open, bringing it up to her ear. "Hello?"

While her mother begins to interrogate her, Santana turns and walks over to the window facing away from Mr. Schue's watching eyes.

"Ma, ma…slow down," she sighs. "We're just finishing now. We got a late start."

It seems to please her mom, but she tells her, sternly, to hurry home. Santana agrees before shutting her phone, taking a deep breath, and turning to face Will. "I told her I was leaving now," she tells him. "I should be back here in an hour or so."

"I'll drive you," he offers. "Then I can wait for you to sneak out."

"No!" she shouts, then hurries on to cover up her outburst. "I'm sorry…it's just…you're safer here, you know."

Santana waits, again, for long, agonizing seconds to see if he buys it.

"This _is_ the safest place for me to be," he agrees, completely oblivious to what her real plan is. "I just don't like the idea of you being out there by yourself."

"Neither should the vampires," she says back, walking past him towards the door. "Because I'm going to kill every, _single_ one that gets in my way."

Her hand is wrapped around the door knob when Mr. Schue calls her name. She freezes and turns her head to the side. "I know there must be a million thoughts and feelings going on with you right now," he trails off, and she can tell how worried he is and how he's trying to choose his words wisely. "I want you to promise me you'll be careful. That you're going to stick to the plan and not go looking for trouble."

It's the last thing she wants to hear because Santana _is_ going to lie to him.

There's no way of convincing her otherwise.

So, she turns, gives him a small, convincing smile, and nods, "I promise."

**xxxxx**

There's a hole the size of her fist in the stairwell of Will's building that is evidence of just how much she hates herself for lying to him. She's been lying so long now she thought she'd at least be somewhat numb to it, but that would be too easy.

The run over was uneventful, which she was somewhat grateful for. As much as she wanted to get this whole thing over with, she could do it easier knowing that her mother is thinking that Santana is tucked safely in her bed as opposed to staying up late and worrying.

But she had to _actually_ do this.

Go into her home, lie to her mother, then sneak off and probably end up dead.

Before walking up to her patio she stashes the plastic bag containing her blood soaked clothes into the trash can and pulls her keys out of her pocket, fingering them hesitantly as she stands in front of her door.

"Come on Lopez," she mutters to herself. "Pull your shit together."

She pushes open the door, shutting it as quietly as she can behind her, trying not to alert her mom to her presence until she had the chance to run upstairs and change into clothes that actually belonged to her.

"Santana, come here please."

Again, the world fucking hates her.

She swallows the groan in her throat and shoves her hands into her pockets as she makes her way down the main hall towards the sound of her mom's voice in the living room.

"I'm sorry, ma," she begins, hoping to soften the blow her mother was no doubt going to send her way by apologizing right away. "I know I should have called but…"

The sentence drops along with her keys that clatter to the floor when she sees that her mother is not alone.

_This can't be happening, this isn't real_ is the only thing running through her mind as her mom smiles, realizing that Santana is not going to pick up the sentence she dropped. "You're friend stopped by," she explains, motioning towards Matt _fucking_ Rutherford.

Matt stands and smiles with an evil glint in his eye. "Hey, Santana."

**Author's Note 2:** Sorry about all the cliffhangers.


	9. Chapter 8

**Title:** Just A Girl (8/10?)  
**Author:** Race122VE (Coll)  
**Pairing:** Santana/Brittany  
**Rating:** R (mostly language, then violence and some semi sexiness as the fic goes on)  
**Summary:** _"But…you're just a girl." _Glee AU fic.  
**Word Count:** A little over 4k.  
**Disclaimer:** All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.  
**Author's Note:** Holy crap this is way late! Apologies to the people keeping up with this and waiting for my ass to finish stuff. I've got majority of the end written, I just need to actually get there. However, Chapter 9 won't be up till after the first week of December (at the very least...) But thanks for the patience and your comments!

**Chapter 8**

Santana can actually hear the seconds tick slowly, and painfully, by as she stands there, eye locked with Matt Rutherford while her mom keeps nervously shifting her gaze back and forth between them.

For a split second, her hand jumps, ready to reach behind her back and retrieve her stake and turn the bastard into dust, but she can't. She's risked enough lives tonight; her mom is _not_ going to be added to that list.

She should say something, she _knows_ this, but she fears that any sudden movement will trigger Matt into doing…something. She's not sure what, there's about a million scenarios running through her head and none of them end well.

So she stands, and stares, and waits.

Her mother, not being able to stand the uneasiness of the whole situation, speaks up. "Santana, what's going on with you?" she hisses, stepping next to her daughter and nudging her with her elbow. "Don't be rude, say hi back to your friend."

She goes from cautious and scared to pissed and confused, snapping her head towards her mother with her mouth hanging open in shock.

There is no way, in this fucked up situation, that her mother was actually chastising her for being _rude_.

But she had to get over herself. Her mother may be pissing her off, but she'd rather that than the alternative, and Santana supposed she had to play along with this little game to see what Matt's plan was.

"Hi," she gave in, muttering quietly.

He nodded at her, a satisfied smirk on his face that she wanted to smack off, before turning to her mom. "Hey, Ms. Lopez," he begins, politely. "Is there any way I could please get a water or something? My throats a little dry."

Her mother agrees, and they both follow her as she leaves the living room and disappears into the kitchen. As soon as she's gone, Santana whips out the stake and Matt flashes his true face, baring his fangs.

They stand there for what seems like forever before Matt laughs. "Put the stake away, Santana," he orders quietly.

"Why the fuck would I do that?"

"Because if you kill me, you'll never see Brittany again," he tells her calmly, and his smile grows a little wider when he adds. "Rachel too, but something tells me you don't care as much about that."

Brittany's name alone is enough to throw her off, along with what Matt is insinuating. The anger begins to build up inside her, and she fights every urge to lunge forward and end Matt's afterlife. It's way too risky, and she's not just thinking about her mother clanging around in the other room. She can't afford putting Brittany's life in any more danger than it's already in.

Santana responds by pocketing her stake once more and throwing her hands up in the air.

"You've got my attention," she says through her teeth.

Matt's face shifts back to normal, but he's still smiling wickedly at her. "Here's what's going to happen," he begins. "You're going to say whatever it is that you have to say to get your mom to let me come up to your room so we can have some more time to talk, and then I'll let you know how the rest of the night is going to play out."

Santana scoffs, "And I'm, what? Just supposed to trust you?"

"If something was going to happen, it would have happened by now," Matt responds. "I could've killed your mother after I got the invitation in."

"And what's going to stop you from killing her later if I don't kill you?" Santana shoots back, nowhere near ready to comply with anything Matt says, despite his knowledge and control over the situation.

Matt merely chuckles back. "It's like you're asking me to kill her, Santana-"

"You make a move for her and it will be the last one you ever make." Her hand moves back to grab her stake again and Matt's already halfway across the room, game face on.

"Do you trust yourself enough to take this risk?" he asks, faking a movement and causing her to stumble forward slightly. "Look, we're both fast and we're both strong and here's how it would go down. I make it to your mom and I kill her then you kill me and lose Brittany and Rachel. _Everything_."

Santana's eyes narrow and Matt continues, unaffected by her glare. "Then there's the scenario where I am just about to kill your mother then you kill me first. She gets to live, but you'll be revealing what you are to her. Oh, and Brittany and Rachel will die too.

"Stop pretending like you have any control over the situation, Santana," he tells her, punctuating the final words as if he's slowly jutting a jagged knife straight through her heart. "You _don't_."

It's a fact that she hasn't been letting herself think all night. If it were possible, Santana thinks that knowledge hurts more than anything else. Sure she's wracked with guilt and blame, but she knows that, right now, everyone she cares about is still alive.

All her life, she's been obsessed with control.

From the beginning, in middle school, she always had to be the first one finished with her tests, the first in line at lunch, the one to get to the top of the jungle gym during recess and only grant access to Quinn and Brittany. The mentality continued into high school. Even though Quinn was the head Cheerio, Santana pulled all the strings in their trio and that bled into the team. Also, in spite of Brittany's reputation, she was the first one of her friends to kiss a boy first, round all the bases, lose her virginity.

Little by little the universe fucked with that, took that feeling away from her. It started when her dad left and basically kicked the shit out of her when she was called, and now…

Now Santana was faced with reality and all she really wanted to do was give up, crawl into a hole, and die.

But she had too many people depending on her, even if she had a sneaking suspicion she was going to just let them down in the end.

Her mom came back in, extending a glass to Matt, before she could agree to anything. Not that there was really any other option.

"Ma, I know it's late and I'm still grounded," Santana begins, keeping her eyes downward. "But can I take Matt upstairs for a bit? He missed the meeting and I just want to burn him the music we chose so he's not behind."

The tell tale signs that her mother is going to refuse show up on her face, and Santana reacts accordingly, "It takes, like, ten minutes to burn a CD, ma. I'm just trying to help out a…"

The word 'friend' is right there, but it's not something she can't say anymore.

"A teammate," she settles on, as well as plastering her most convincing good daughter face.

"Ten minutes?" her mother asks, eyeing both of them.

Matt plays his part too, giving her a wholesome smile.

Reluctantly, she agrees. Once upstairs and in Santana's room, Matt struts in and flops down on the bed like he belongs there. She wants so badly to hurt him and then end his miserable existence. "Remember the last time we were in here together?" he asks conversationally, but emphasizes the next word in a sleazy way. "_Alone_?"

Santana bites down on her tongue hard enough to draw blood.

Does she remember when her mom went and stayed with her cousin after her dad left and she threw a party and fucked Matt when she was sloppy drunk and vulnerable and just looking to feel _something_?

"I remember," she nods, plastering on her best poker face as she crosses her arms over her chest and glares back. "Let's cut the shit and get on with it."

If he wants to make a remark, he chooses not to. Matt's propped up on his elbows, looking back at Santana with his legs kicking back and forth playfully. He's entirely too comfortable and Santana is thrown by it but tries to remain steely. She knows she's not going to like anything he has to say and she should be prepared for that right off the bat.

"Give me your phone," he demands. "And the stake you have tucked in your pants. Also, I want to know where your weapons are."

It takes her several moments of deep breathing and glaring back at Matt and his shit eating grin before she reaches into her pocket for her phone before tossing it on the bed. She gets the stake, drops it on the ground and kicks it his way before motioning to her closet. "There's a black duffel in the back, behind my shoe rack," she tells him. "It's all in there."

He grabs her phone as he stands, crushing it with little effort and letting the mangled device fall from his hand. For a second Santana turns into a teenager, just a normal girl who's afraid of what her mom is going to say now that she's managed to destroy _two_ cell phones in the span of a couple of weeks.

But she's not that normal girl. It's not going to matter that another phone is lying in pieces in her room because she's probably going to die tonight.

Matt's crouched over in her closet, pushing things aside to reach for her weapons and her eyes fall on the stake that's a few feet away from her grasp. If there was a time she was going to do this, it was now. She doesn't even try though, which is the most depressing thing. Santana's already given up, she already knows she's outnumbered, and she's never felt more useless in her entire life.

The bag lands on her bed and Matt bends down, grabbing the discarded stake and twirling it around in his fingers as he looks down at her.

"What now?" Santana asks when she notices his gaze lingering a little too long on her neck.

"Now we have a little chat."

Again, he lets more time pass and she's not sure if that's some kind of mental tactic or something but it is pissing her the fuck off. "Well," she says, throwing her hands in the air before crossing them over her chest. "I don't have all fucking night…"

"That _is_ true," he smirks knowingly before going on. "Well…tonight was a disaster."

And Santana can't help but comment under her breath, "Fucking understatement of the year."

"I mean," Matt goes on, getting more and more worked up as he talks. "I put in a lot of time with this whole thing. I was in charge of this, it was _my_ thing. Do you even know how hard it was to stay a safe distance away, fight my new born urges and curiosities? I couldn't get too close otherwise you would know what I was, and that hindered us as well. There was a lot of guessing about who the Slayer was."

"When did you figure out it was me?"

"I knew for a while," he responds. "Once the groups were narrowed down and we collected information about certain students you were one of the obvious choices…"

"But you had others?" Santana prompts, taking in all the information that she can. It's what she needed right now and it was, literally, the only weapon she had. If she was going to save Brittany and keep everyone safe, she had to know exactly what she was up against.

"_Someone_ had different ideas," he spits out, growling slightly. "Once we know that it was a brunette in the Glee Club that's when the plan was made to strike, to get Rachel. A newborn team was sent, just to get a feel of things. I mean, best case scenario we got the Slayer, worst we lost a handful of morons. Of course we got a shitty outcome cause they plucked the wrong brunette."

_Rachel_.

They thought it was Rachel, and why they ended up taking Brittany she doesn't really know.

But she wants to. Santana wants to press the issue, find out as much information about why they took Brittany, if she's OK, if they have any plans for her…

That's not the information she _needs_ though. Not if she wants to at least try to make it out of this alive and with everyone safe. She has to focus on this 'someone' Matt is angry about. The one that gave the call to take Rachel. A part of her had always figured Matt wasn't the brains of the operation, the one in charge, and from the way he's talking he seems pretty bitter about it. It's a useful piece of information and needs to see if she can pull anymore out of Matt.

"Who thought it was Rachel?" she asks, not really expecting an answer but what could it hurt?

"You'll find out soon enough," he replies, brushing her off. "I've already talked enough about this. It's time to move on to what's going to happen next."

"And what's that?"

"I'm going to leave, you're going to tell your mom that you're turning in early, you'll wait 'til it's safe to sneak out of your house, and I'll be waiting outside the whole time until you do," he tells her. "Oh, and if you try to call anyone…try to get in touch with Quinn or your watcher in any way, I'm coming back into your house and snapping your mom's neck like a twig."

Santana stares back, trying not to flinch at the sudden mental image of how easy and quick it would be for Matt to just take her mother away from her like that. Her fingers dig into her arms, hard enough to leave imprints of her nails, but she just sets her jaw and nods once.

"How long do you need?"

She takes in a deep breath, giving her a moment to think, before answering, "A half hour. Probably."

It's when she's due back at Mr. Schuester's. She figures he'll know something's up and try to do…something. She's not sure what Schue, Coach, and Quinn can actually do, but they'll know that something is wrong and they're not stupid enough to call her house and get her mom all worked up.

Matt walks forward, throwing his arm over her shoulders and leading her to the door. "Let's go say goodbye to your mom then."

All she wants to do once they're downstairs is get Matt out of her fucking house. He makes a good show of shaking her hand, thanking her, being a fucking gentleman and Santana makes a mental note to take him out. Even if she's probably going down, she is going to make sure she takes Matt down with her.

One way or another.

She's about to slam the door in his face, but his hand stops it and he leans in, whispering, "Half hour."

"Fuck off," she spits before slamming the door.

Santana can still feel him lingering on the other side of the door, probably smiling and just being generally creepy. Her head moves forward and thumps against the wood a couple of times before resting there. She squeezes her eyes shut as he mind begins to weigh the pros and cons of spending a little time with her mom or running upstairs and curling up into a ball.

When her mom appears behind her, causing her to jump and spin at the sudden shuffle behind her, Santana makes up her mind.

There's no way she can spend an extra second with her mom and be strong enough to go through with this.

"Everything OK, Santana?"

She nods, not trusting her voice while she's trying to hold back tears at what will probably the last time she sees her mother.

"I thought you two were friends," her mom starts. "I'm sorry if you didn't want to see him-"

"It's not that, ma," she shakes her head. "I'm just…really tired today."

Her mom purses her lips, eyes scanning Santana's face. "You do look exhausted," she agrees quietly, worry evident in her tone. "You're sure that's it?"

Again, Santana nods, not trusting herself with too many words. She's always been quiet when something is bothering her. Usually she always ends up going to her mom in the end, so the older woman lets it slide. Luckily for Santana, her mother must think that's what's happening here.

She steps forward, places a warm hand on her arm, and leans over, placing a light kiss on Santana's forehead. "Get some sleep," she mumbles against Santana's skin, squeezing her arm comfortingly.

When she steps back, Santana can't help but shiver and wrap her arms around her body. Her mom doesn't notice and goes to walk back into the living room. Santana knows exactly why she does what she does next. She _does_, but she also knows it's a dead giveaway for 'something's wrong' or 'I'm in trouble.'

Still, she can't help herself when she says, "I love you."

Her mom turns instantly and stares back suspiciously.

It's not like they _never_ say 'I love you' to each other, but they don't say it nearly enough for it to be normal behavior. She's always felt loved and she always treats her mother that way, but after her dad left and it was just the two of them pitching in and doing the work Santana just noticed how neither of them said it as much as they used to.

So, when either of them said 'I love you' it usually meant more than just the words. Which is why her mom was opening and closing her mouth, trying to say something but obviously over thinking the words too much. Santana saves her the trouble and heads to the stairs, throwing a "Good night" over her shoulder.

She shuts the door and leans back against it before sinking down and hugging her knees to her body. She wants to leave now, to get this over with as opposed to sitting in her room and being bombarded with her thoughts. After saying 'I love you' to her mom, though, she had to wait, had to put on the show. A part of her wants to take it back, but how was she supposed to leave and, presumably, not come back without letting her mom know that?

Santana can still sense Matt outside pacing, acting just as impatient as her, and she feels like she has to do something. The guilt has been weighing her down, the feeling of helplessness adding to it, and she hates that she just has to sit here and wait to walk into this alone with nothing.

That's when the Slayer kicks in for (what feels like) the first time tonight.

Her eyes scan the room for anything that she can hide on herself and use in a possible situation. While she's pretty much accepted her fate and is going in this knowing that, more likely than not, she probably won't be coming back, it doesn't mean she's not going to fight.

Santana pushes herself up off the ground and goes to stand at her dresser. She stops briefly at her reflection and wonders why her mother didn't push more, didn't ask what had happened to her that night, cause she looks like shit.

It's not something she has time to dwell on, though, so she tears her gaze away from her mirror and scans her dresser first. She notices her nail file and tosses it on to the bed before moving over to her desk and emptying out a cup filled with pens and pencils. She can't take much, and she's not even sure where she's going to hide it, but Santana has to _try_ to arm herself.

In her closet she drags out a pair of boots she usually wears when it's snowing and stuffs a pencil in one and a nail file in the other. It's snug and she's pretty sure she stabbed herself with the file, but she feels a little better about the situation.

There's probably a good fifteen more minutes left before she has to leave when her eyes look back to her dresser and catch sight of a photo in a pink, homemade frame decorated with stickers of hearts, rainbows, and ducks. Inside is a picture from the beginning of the year, when Brittany came back from her family thing and Santana couldn't wipe the smile off her face from having her best friend back.

She walks over, picks up the frame, and runs her fingers over the side of the picture that has Brittany pulling Santana tight against her body while her other hand is holding the camera out to capture the moment. She's not sure how long she stands there, staring at her best friend, but a drop of water falls on to the picture and it breaks the trance.

Santana looks up, wondering how the hell water could possibly be leaking from her ceiling when she realizes she's crying. She sets the picture back down on her dresser and swipes the back of her hand over her cheeks a couple of times when she hears footsteps coming up the stair.

It's time.

Reaching out, she kills the lights in her room and quickly gets under the covers, lying with her back facing the door. Her mom checks in on her whenever Santana's in trouble or she's extra worried about her daughter. The way she's been acting she can't blame her mom for lingering in the door way. She can feel the gaze burning into the back of her neck, but she just ignores the ache she feels and stares ahead until her mom is finished.

That's about three _long_ minutes later.

The door is shut softly behind her and Santana remains where she is, her ear cocked towards her mom's room as she listens to the movements of her mom getting ready for bed. Once she hears the light clicking off in her mom's room the covers are thrown off and she's opening her window. She crouches in the frame, looking down and seeing Matt stepping out from behind a tree and waving up at her.

She jumps down with ease and walks up to join Matt. "You OK?" he asks sincerely as he begins to walk down her block.

Santana follows him, even though she has to pause because…did he really just fucking ask if she's OK? Seriously?

Too baffled to even think about how she would answer the question, Santana remains silent, walking with her head down and her arms crossed over her chest. Matt looks sideways at her. "Did you hear me?"

"I fucking heard you," she responds.

"Well," he shrugs. "Are you?"

Without even thinking about it, Santana stops, balls her hand into a fist, brings her arm back, and then swings it forward, _hard_. There's a satisfying crack ringing in her ears and she realizes she broke Matt's nose, but vampire healing is just as good as hers so she knows it probably doesn't even hurt him. She stumbles forward with the momentum and Matt falls back on his ass, but is up quickly. Her knuckles will be bruised, she's sure of that, and the way Matt's looking back at her, both hands resting on either side of his nose, she feels like they won't be the only thing bruised.

But she can't help but smile back at him.

Another series of cracks breaks the silence as Matt puts his nose back in place. "_Now_ are you OK?"

"I am, actually," she replies.

"Good."

Then, with even less warning than her punch to Matt, his boot connects to her face and sends her flying backwards. She can feel blood pouring out of her nose and just an endless, throbbing pain coming from her entire face. It feels like someone threw a car at her head and she thinks she should get up, she knows that she should, but her brain can't function right now.

Footsteps approach and Matt stands over her head before he crouches down and leans over her body. She wants to say something but her mind is slowly but surely ceasing all functions. Her arms that were half heartedly trying to push her up before have stopped moving and her breath is slowing to a long, steady pace.

Matt's face gets blurry and she thinks he's talking but the words sound far away.

Then everything goes black.

**Author's Note 2:** I'm awful with these cliffhangers...**_so _**sorry!


	10. Chapter 9

**Title:** Just A Girl (9/11?)  
**Author:** Race122VE (Coll)  
**Pairing:** Santana/Brittany  
**Rating:** R (mostly language, then violence and some semi sexiness as the fic goes on)  
**Summary:** _"But…you're just a girl." _Glee AU fic.  
**Word Count:** A little over 4k.  
**Disclaimer:** All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.  
**Author's Note:** WOW! I am so, so, so sorry for not updating this. Life and lack of inspiration got in the way, but now my goal is to have this finished by the weekend. This and the now Chapter 10 were supposed to be one big part, but since LJ hates me I would have had to split it anyway so I another chapter. Also, the end is just about written so once I get 10 done it should be fairly easy to finish. Thanks for your patience and for sticking with me and your comments. Also, the last few parts will be unbeta'd.

**Chapter 9**

Aside from the obvious pain left over from taking a boot to the face, Santana can feel her lungs filling up with liquid as she slowly tries to blink into consciousness. Instinctually, she jerks upwards eyes now wide thanks to the breath she tried to inhale but couldn't. Her coughs echo off the walls of the room she's in as she tilts her head to the side and spits up the excess liquid.

Blood.

Lots of it and her hand reaches up to gently run across her upper lip, right under her nose. When she pulls back its bright red and fresh and the smell makes her stomach turn over as she tries to even out her breathing and calm down.

How the fuck is she supposed to calm down though?

She figured Matt would knock her out and take her somewhere, but she didn't think she'd wake up in…what looks like an oversized storage closet or something, wounds on her face healing incorrectly and blood still oozing out of her fairly fresh injuries.

Enough so to nearly drown in it, anyway.

No, what she expected (and hoped for in a sick way) was to wake up and get all of her answers before ensuring Brittany and Rachel's safety and then dying.

Probably.

Now she has to wait more. Or try to figure a way out of this, like…was this group of vampires a special kind of stupid? Giving her time to think, leaving her in a room like a closet where she can find everyday things and improvise a weapon…none of it made any sense and it was giving her a different kind of headache than the one already throbbing between her temples and all she really wants is to just _see_ Brittany.

Right now, all Santana has is Matt's word that she's fine. That's not even close to being good enough. For all she knows, Brittany could be dead right now and…

Santana lets the thought trail off as her eyes well up and her bottom lip starts to tremble. She takes in a shaky breath and shakes her head clear of those thoughts and lets the Slayer take over. It's her only chance of surviving, to completely give into primal instinct.

She slides her feet under her body and carefully pushes herself upright, rolling her head around on her neck and groaning at the satisfying series of cracks that follow the motions. She stretches her arms above her head as she lets her eyes adjust to the darkness before scanning the room.

It's a storage closet alright.

A few shelves of unmarked boxes, some cleaning supplies, a hell of a lot of dust, and a pair of legs in the back.

The body that the legs are attached to is obscured by one of the shelves so she's not sure exactly who it is, just who she wants it to be. They're not nearly as long as Brittany's and a little darker then the blonde's fair skin, but Santana's heart leaps forward in her chest and her body propels itself forward. She drops down to her knees, sliding on the floor a little until she is leaning over…

Rachel. Rachel _fucking_ Berry.

"Damn," she breathes out, but while frustrated and slightly disheartened at not being met with the sight she had hoped for, she's relieved none the less.

Despite her extreme dislike for Rachel, it's good to see her alive and breathing. It's also a small reassurance that Brittany is in this same state, _somewhere_.

Santana shakes her head again, trying to get herself to focus, and she reaches out a hand and taps at Rachel's cheeks. "Rachel," she says, not too loudly cause she's still not sure what's on the other side of that door. "Berry…get up."

Nothing.

It's no secret that she's wanted to smack Rachel across the face on more than one occasion, but when she does it this time she takes no pleasure in it. Santana needs Rachel awake, she needs to talk to her and get as much information as possible.

She doesn't even have time to chuckle at the irony cause she never thought she'd see the day where she _wants_ Rachel Berry to talk.

Her palm leaves behind a mark and a smacking sound that cause Santana to wince for the girl. There is a twitch in her eyes and Santana waits a moment, breath hitched in her throat and her mind willing Rachel to wake up. Another moment ticks by and she repeats the action, harder this time and saying, a little louder than before, "Damn it Rachel, wake the fuck up."

A few more seconds go by, but Rachel is now squirming under her, head moving back and forth and low noises are being muttered from her mouth. It's not happening fast enough though and Santana looks back to the door, cocks her ear in that direction and listens for anything beyond that. She focuses on all the instincts that she has and, thankfully, they tell her she's safe and she looks back down at Rachel who has brought her hand up to rub at her eyes.

"San…Santana?"

She's not really sure what to say, so she just smirks and nods her head, "Sup, Berry?"

Rachel moves her hand off her eyes and runs it over her forehead and through her hair, blinking up at Santana. "You've been kidnapped too?"

"Yeah," she replies, helping to pull Rachel into a sitting position as she folds her own legs underneath her. "I'm the one they wanted in the first place."

Rachel tilts her head to the side. "What? I don't…understand-"

"That's not important now," she says dismissively. "I know that there's a lot going on and I just smacked you hard across the face…twice, but I need you to tell me everything you remember."

After a beat, she adds, "Preferably as fast as possible."

She wants to argue with Santana, her mouth opens and she just _knows_ that Rachel is going to try to be stubborn so she glares back at her and Rachel cowers at the look. "You want to know everything?"

Santana nods, "Go as far back as you can remember. Like…why were you in the auditorium? How did you get there?"

"I, um…" her brow furrows and her eyes look down as she tries to remember what had happened. "I had left behind some notes and sheet music. Songs that featured me as the lead for Regionals." They may be in a life or death situation right now, but Santana has to take a moment to roll her eyes. "I ran into Brittany when I entered through the front doors. She was…there was something off. Something was bothering her…"

Her eyes close against the thought, against the image of Brittany's body so close to her own, her mouth wafting just above hers, and then the look on the Brittany's face when Santana doesn't meet her the rest of the way.

It kills her to snap her fingers at Rachel, signaling her to move on with the details (the relevant ones, anyway) but she has no idea how much time she has and she should be trying to figure a way out but she feels like knowing what's going on, who's behind this, is just as important.

"I told her I had to pick up some things from the auditorium," Rachel goes on. "And she said she would come with me, that…that _you_ said it was dangerous to be walking alone. Noah was leaving the locker room and Brittany convinced him to join us as well. It was a little weird how readily he was to just agree-"

"_Berry_."

"Sorry," Rachel mumbles before continuing. "We got into the auditorium…and…_it happened so fast_," Rachel's barely even speaking above a whisper at this point and Santana can practically see the girl reliving the events in her mind. "There were three of them. Two jumped Noah immediately, beating him to the ground and then one…_bit_ him. Oh my gosh…Noah-"

"Puck's fine," Santana tells Rachel. "They got him to the hospital. He's fine."

Rachel looks back and there's relief in her face but Santana must not look convincing enough cause she can see Rachel's eyes filling with tears. There's no guarantee that Puck's fine, he could have very well bled out at the hospital or something. She thinks about all the blood left over on the stage, what got soaked up in her clothes and stuck to her body.

Then she thinks that Rachel had to watch it. Brittany too.

Santana's been fortunate enough never to have to witness something like that. She can't imagine what it would be like seeing that…

But she's losing focus. She can't dwell on Puck or how broken Rachel suddenly looks, she _needs_ this information. "Come on," she urges Rachel, shaking her shoulder a little. "Keep going. What happened next? What do you remember?"

Rachel blinks and looks back at Santana. "That's it. That's all I remember," she says. "I screamed and they…they must have knocked us out. I feel fine though…"

As she says it, she starts to sway and fall forward. Santana holds on to her shoulder, steadying Rachel as Santana's free hand runs through her to check for bumps or injuries. She feels the bump on the back of Rachel's head and the way her hair feels stiff and crunchy from the dried blood. One glance to the small pool of red on the floor confirms that Rachel was hit from behind and then dumped here.

Wherever _here_ is.

It's been a couple of hours or so since the attack, or at least it was before Matt kicked her in the face. Putting aside the possible fractures in her face, Santana would not have been out that long.

Where the fuck could they have taken her in that time?

And where the hell was Brittany?

Brittany who, more than likely not, had a similar injury to Rachel's. The thought twists in her chest and she feels the ache spread all over her body. Santana finds it hard to breath all of a sudden and everything shuts off at the thought.

"Santana?"

Her name being uttered by Rachel shakes her out of her horrified trance and she realizes she's cradling Rachel's head in her hand, very softly and carefully. It's like she was using Rachel as some sort of Brittany catalyst and she can't help the sneer that flashes across her face. She has to resist her initial reaction, to shove the smaller girl away, and, instead, rises to her feet and holds out a hand for Rachel.

Rachel eyes the hand, frustrating Santana. She shakes it impatiently. "Come on, Berry. I don't have all fucking night here."

"Did they get you at school too?" Rachel asks as Santana easily yanks her to her feet.

"What?"

"At school," Rachel repeats before explaining. "Brittany said you were around as well, they must have grabbed you along with us at school. Whoever _they_ are."

Shit.

Now she has to explain that vampires are real and that she's the Slayer and blah blah blah…it's all shit she doesn't have time for. She needs to find a way out of this room. She needs to find Brittany. She needs to _save_ Brittany.

Ignoring Rachel, Santana goes to move around the dark room, but Rachel latches on to her wrist and tugs.

Of course, Rachel weighs like, a hundred pounds or something so Santana just drags her along. "Santana! Answer me!"

"Shut it, Rachel," Santana hisses, rounding on the short brunette. "I don't have time for your questions. I'm awake, they're not here, and that means I have time to plan…_something_."

"I hope you're not seriously thinking about fighting back," Rachel gasps. "Santana, you didn't see what they did to Noah-"

"I saw, Rachel," she cuts in. "I fucking saw. I was covered in his blood-"

"Then you know how dangerous these people are-"

"They're not people!"

"Not people?" Rachel scoffs. "Well, what on earth _could_ they be?"

"Vampires."

Santana almost forgot the kind of stages a person goes through as soon as they hear the word. It's a long process, it was for her anyway. She may have believed it when she left Coach's office that one day so long ago, it seems, but it took her a lot longer to really accept the idea. Quinn took a whole night, apparently. With the aid of alcohol, but Santana can't imagine that really helped any.

Rachel experiences all of them in about ten seconds.

First she tries, but fails, to hide her grin that turns into some kind of childlike giggle before the laughter dies down and she's wiping at her eyes. Then, finally, her brow knots together in thought and her eyes start shifting back and forth in realization that, yes, vampires are real.

Any other time, she'd be fascinated how someone could just believe her, believe the idea, the _reality_. Because Rachel _does_ believe it. Santana can see the terror in her eyes where there was just worry and confusion. Maybe one day she will. Probably not, but who knows?

Santana takes advantage of Rachel's shocked state and yanks her arm free and walks over to the door, twisting the knob that she knows is locked but, hey, it was worth a shot.

"That doesn't change anything," Rachel says in a low voice. "Actually, it makes me feel more like I'm actually going to die but…you can't fight them back, Santana. You're just-"

"A girl!" Santana shouts back as she turns to face Rachel.

Santana sees her jump, but doesn't stop, doesn't remember that she's supposed to be quiet and planning a way to get through this cause she's so fucking _sick_ of people saying that she's 'just a girl.'

"I am so sick of people telling me that like I don't know. I know. I fucking _know_ that I'm _just a girl_," she goes on. "But I'm the _one_. I'm the only one that can stop them, that can save you. I was chosen because vampires exist and that means a vampire Slayer exists, and that's _me_. Everything falls on _me_. You were kidnapped because of _me_. Puck's almost dead because of _me_. We're probably not going to make it out of here alive because of _me_. Brittany's…"

Again, just saying Brittany's name throws Santana off. She trips over a few words before closing her mouth and taking in a deep breath through her nose. "I know you have questions…I _know_," Santana says, trying to come off sympathetic cause she gets that this isn't easy to accept in such a short amount of time. "But, _please_…for once in your life will you just _shut up_ and listen to me and let me try to save your damn life?"

They stare at each other awkwardly for a little bit before Santana turns back to the door. She can still feel Rachel's eyes burning into her back as her palms flatten against the door and she brings her ear up to rest against the hard surface. She hasn't been able to hear anything or sense any approaching vampires, but she also hasn't been paying attention since Rachel woke up.

"So…you're strong, right?" Rachel asks hesitantly, and Santana has to stop herself from physically gagging Rachel and nods once instead. "Then…why don't you just break the door down."

"Because that would make noise," Santana replies slowly as she spins and leans back against the door so her eyes can scan the room. "And I don't have any weapons…and I've got your dwarf ass to worry about. So, I've got to improvise or something."

"Like using the vent?"

Santana's gaze immediately snaps back to Rachel. "What?"

Rachel points to her left. "The vent over there. You seem to make it a point of calling me a dwarf every opportunity you find and, ironically, you're not _that_ much taller than me so I imagine we'd both fit in there fine."

Santana only hears the part about both of them being able to fit in the vent and she eyes it up carefully. She hates that its Rachel's idea, but her only other option is wait for someone to get them and try to surprise attack them. Problem with that is she still doesn't have a weapon. Knocking a vampire down is only effective if you have something wooden to plunge into their chest right after.

They both could fit through, but the part of her that is still socially required to hate Rachel Berry's existence isn't looking forward to staring at her ass for however long they're gonna be in the vent.

Unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be another choice.

"Fine," she sighs.

Santana slides a box over so she can lift herself up and work on the vent. It's bolted shut, but she wasn't expecting this to be easy. "Go stand by the door," she tells Rachel as her fingers grip the edges. "Listen closely, let me know if you think you hear anything."

Rachel walks over to the door as Santana tests her strength against the metal vent. It's a little rusted and not the easiest, or quietest, thing she's had to pry open, but she manages to pull one corner off with a loud pop. She pauses, looking over at Rachel who's looking back at her with wide eyes, watching as Santana bends the metal back.

She points to the door and narrows her eyes at Rachel. "_Listen_."

It's a few more minutes before she's managed to rip the vent off its hinges. She steps down from the box and rests the vent against the wall and walks over to the door next to Rachel. She presses her ear against it and listens. "I have perfect hearing you know," Rachel whispers, rolling her eyes. "If I heard something, I would've told you considering we're in mortal danger."

"My hearing's better," Santana argues. "All my senses are heightened. So, again, shut up and let me listen."

Rachel opens her mouth to say something back, but Santana glares and it snaps shut in a huff. "OK," she says after a moment. "We're clear now, but that doesn't mean we move slow. You're going to go first, and you're going to move fast."

"Wait, why me?"

"Because if someone comes to get us, they're going to see the open vent and climb in after and then I'll have to deal with it," Santana tells her. "Remember the part where I told you to shut up and do what I fucking say?"

Rachel huffs and crosses her arms over her chest as she stomps over to the grate and reaches her hands up. Santana rolls her eyes and has a moment where she can laugh at Rachel's shortness cause she's really trying to grab the bottom of the vent without stepping on anything.

Without warning her, Santana squats down and lifts Rachel up by her feet. She yelps in surprise, but grabs the edges of the vent and climbs in. Once she crawls further in, Santana jumps up, grips the edges, and easily pulls herself into the vent.

However, Rachel hasn't gotten very far and Santana's head is more or less up Rachel's ass. "Did I mention that speed is important here?" Santana grumbles, reaching out and shoving Rachel forward. "We're kind of lucking out here and I may actually have a chance of saving you and Brittany without dying so…get to steppin."

"There's no need to shove, Santana," Rachel responds, annoyed. "This vent is dirty and snug and I can't see where I'm going and I'd appreciate it if you didn't abuse me while we're in here, physically or verbally."

"There is a reason: _vampires_," Santana reminds her. "You can shower later and if I can move fast through this thing, you should be able to run with your arms outstretched."

"What about the part where I can't see where I'm going-"

"Just keep crawling."

So she does.

They crawl for about ten minutes, taking the turns when they come upon them and Rachel's squeaking instead of verbalizing her displeasure and Santana's rolling her eyes and biting her tongue when, finally, Rachel announces, "There's an opening up ahead."

When Rachel reaches the vent she pushes forward and nothing happens.

Of course nothing happens, though. Rachel weighs, like one hundred pounds or something and has no upper body strength. Santana groans and crawls forward, pushing past Rachel and pressing their bodies closely together as she makes her way to the vent.

"Think you could help me out by crawling back?" she sneers as she comes face to face with Rachel. "I'm not attracted to midgets."

Rachel grumbles something under her breath that Santana doesn't catch as she shimmies backwards. It takes a few shoves before the vent tumbles loudly to the floor, the clang echoing through the dark, empty room. Santana jumps down carefully, scanning the area and listening for a moment before deciding it's safe to help Rachel down.

After Santana helps Rachel down, the shorter girl stays rooted where Santana placed her while she lets her eyes adjust to the new surroundings. Her mouth falls open and forms an 'O' as her brow scrunches up in confusion.

"This is a classroom."

Rachel steps forward, a curious expression on her face as well. "We're…in a school?"

"Apparently," Santana responds as she looks to her right and sees a row of windows.

She walks over and peers out and breathes a sigh of relief when she sees they're on ground level. Santana opens the window, shivering as the cool air blows in and hits her skin. She also frowns when the window stops half way. Stupid safety precautions or whatever. Stepping back, though, Santana eyes the window and decides she'd be able to fit through.

And, if Santana can fit through Rachel Berry should have no problem.

"Here's the plan," she starts, turning to face Rachel. "You're going to climb out the window and figure out where the fuck we are, and then you're going to get to a safe place and find a phone. When you find a phone, you call _Mr. Schuester_, got it? Don't call the police or your dads or who the fuck ever, you call Schue and you tell him where you are and what's happened-"

"I'm not even sure what's happening, Santana…"

"That Matt kidnapped me-"

"Matt?" Rachel screeches. "Matt Rutherford? Matt's dead…?"

"Not the point," Santana holds her hand up and takes a deep breath. "He'll know what I mean. Now let's go." She turns back to the window, expecting Rachel to walk over but sighs when Rachel doesn't approach. She calls for Rachel again in a tone that suggests she's being as serious as she can possibly be.

Rachel's response, "No. I'm sorry."

"_Berry_," she warns, spinning where she stands and then glaring at the other brunette.

Surprisingly, Rachel doesn't flinch at Santana's stare. In fact, her whole body stiffens in defiance and her fists clench at her side as her jaw sets and she glares back at Santana. "I want to help."

"_Great_," Santana replies. "Climb out the fucking window, find out where we are, get safe, and call Mr. Schue."

"I can't leave you alone-"

"You can, actually," Santana cuts her off. "Rachel, I know it may not seem like it…but I'd be a little pissed if you die, especially when I had the chance to save you. I don't have time to yell at you anymore or make you understand how fucking serious everything is cause, frankly, you're useless. These are vampires, what the fuck can you do, really?"

Santana walks forward, grabs Rachel's wrist and tugs her to the window. "Go."

Rachel opens her mouth to say something, but she just ends up closing it again. The look on her face tells Santana everything. That Rachel hates feeling helpless, is still confused about everything, and scared. Through it all, Rachel climbs through the window and falls down to the ground. Santana leans against the window, hands gripping the edges of the sill so tightly her knuckles go white, and nods at Rachel.

"Be careful."

The words are so low Santana's not sure if she actually said them or thought them until Rachel responds, "_You_ be careful."

Then, Rachel disappears into the night and Santana is left alone.


	11. Chapter 10

**Title:** Just A Girl (10/11?)  
**Author:** Race122VE (Coll)  
**Pairing:** Santana/Brittany  
**Rating:** R (mostly language, then violence and some semi sexiness as the fic goes on)  
**Summary:** _"But…you're just a girl." _Glee AU fic.  
**Word Count:** Around 6500 ish.  
**Disclaimer:** All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.  
**Author's Note:** It seems all I do is apologize but my life does not want me to finish this. Fortunately, this part turned out a little longer than I hoped so there's that. I have 2 k already written for the last, and final, part (save for the epilogue) Also I have some time to work on this so I will update as soon as I can. Thanks again for all the comments and for reading, they really help to keep me going.

**Chapter 10**

Priority number one: find Brittany.

Without Rachel to worry about, Santana's in full attack mode. She walks over to the teacher's desk, her hands pushing things aside until her fingers wrap around a ruler.

A _wooden_ ruler.

She snaps it in half easily into two pieces, both with jagged, sharp tips. One half gets tucked into the back of her pants while the other is clutched tightly in her fist as she walks over to the door and listens.

Still silence, but there's also a small prickling, something telling her that there's a vampire, maybe more, close by and heading in her direction.

Or, more accurately, they're probably heading towards the supply closet where they stashed her with Rachel.

The feeling is getting stronger and she soon knows, without a doubt, that it's a single vampire. A female, to be exact. Her hand gripped the makeshift stake tightly as the vampire's footsteps grow louder, the sound echoing in the empty hallways of the school. They sound fast and full of purpose, but when they approach the door Santana was pressed up against they slowed.

Newer vampires can't always access their full potential right away, potential like being able to sense a Slayer just like she could sense vampires. It's why Matt kept his distance when watching her. From what she's learned, a Slayer is a vampire just alive and not blood thirsty. She's strong like them; she has heightened senses, agile, speed, and all that other junk.

The footsteps keep moving, but Santana can practically see the vampire eyeing up the door and debating whether what she was feeling was more important than whatever it was she had to do.

There are two options now.

Remain where she is, hidden in the classroom until the vampire's presence is just a small blip on her senses or fling the door open and attack.

The first option is the safer one, the _smarter_ one, but Santana's been itching for some contact and, she rationalizes, she doesn't _have_ to kill the vampire. She could just smack her around, maybe even try to find out where they're keeping Brittany and then get them both out of there, safe and in one piece.

With her mind made up, her free hand twists the door knob and gently pushes the door open, trying to avoid that deafening click sound a door makes when it's open in the midst of silence. She tests the door, confident that it won't creak and pushes it open wide enough for her to sneak out. She doesn't have to go very far because the vampire had turned around and was shoving Santana back into the classroom.

She sparingly wonders how the vampire got the drop on her, but that thought soon disappears as her back lands painfully flat on one of the desks and the full weight of Santana, and the vampire on top of her, send them both crashing to the ground.

Santana groans, but doesn't dwell because all she hears is a low growl and all she sees are sharp fangs and all she can feel is the heaviness of the vampire holding her down as she lowers her mouth down towards Santana's neck.

Her legs swing up and wrap themselves tightly around the vampire's waist and Santana pulls her body back, trying to build up as momentum as possible before flinging herself upwards and changing their positions.

Santana is now straddling the vampire and she just starts pummeling her fists down without thinking about it. They're not even aimed towards her face, blows are landing everywhere. She just keeps repeating the motion, over and over, until she feels the skin on her knuckles start to bruise and break open. She can feel the body under her go slack and after a couple minutes, when she's panting and a light film of sweat is covering her body, she stops.

She leans back on the vampire's legs as she looks over the damage. Her face is swollen and bloody and shifting back to normal. She knows the vampire is weak, is beaten down and can't put up much of a fight anymore, but she still can't trust her. Santana's hand reaches out and latches on to her neck as the other hand, still clutching the half of a ruler, brings the weapon over to press into the area over her heart.

One swift plunge and it's over.

But, she needs some information first.

"So…you're going to tell me what I need to know," Santana tells her. "Or, I'll kill you."

Even though she's clearly in pain and beaten to a pulp, the vampire chuckles back. "You're going to kill me anyway."

Santana shrugs. "True. I guess the important question now is _how_ am I going to kill you…"

"Only one way."

"Right," Santana nods, holding the stake up in the air. "Well, it's not the _only_ way-"

"It's night time so sunlight is out, and I don't see any holy water or silver crucifixes or anything you can use to cut my head off," the vampire reminds her with a smirk. "Unless you know another way to kill a vam-"

The sound of Santana's hand snapping one of the vampire's fingers back at an unnatural angle cuts her off and is followed by a howl of pain. The hand that's clutching the stake covers the vampire's mouth, muffling her cries. The body is thrashing under her, but Santana has control of the situation and smirks back at the vampire.

"Don't get me wrong, I plan on using the stake to kill you," Santana whispers, her hand twisting the limp finger back even further. "But I also plan on making it as painful as possible."

She snaps another finger, proving her point. "Where's Brittany?"

"I don't know-"

_Snap_.

The shouts are still stifled by her hand and Santana rushes on, "The blonde, the other one you took from McKinley. Where is she?"

"I don't know," Santana grasps the next finger and when the vampire starts talking Santana moves her hand. "_Really_. I..I don't know, I'm in charge of the small one."

"And who's in charge of you?"

Santana waits a moment, arching an eyebrow and trying to prompt the vampire to answer, but her lips are clamped shut and her wide eyes are staring at her hand. Santana lets go of the finger she had a hold on and the vampire seems to relax for a moment.

But only a moment, cause Santana grasps her hand with her own and squeezes with everything she has.

The other hand is once again silencing the howls of pain that fill the classroom and Santana tosses aside the limp hand. "I don't really have all night here," Santana tells her. "So either answer my question or I'm going to just finish off your other hand and then think of something else I can break."

"You know?" the vampire chuckles, causing a sense of uneasiness to wash over Santana. "You're asking the wrong question."

"Did you lie to me about Brittany?"

The vampire laughs louder, harder, and the uneasiness grows stronger. "I told you I was in charge of the small girl," she says again. "You should be asking who's in charge of you."

A growl from the door grabs Santana's attention.

Her head snaps up to see a hulk of a vampire taking a step into the room. He's huge, bulky, and _pissed_. Gigantor is practically frothing at the mouth and Santana hastily dusts the chick under her before rolling away and onto her feet. Santana crouches low, bracing herself for whatever stack there might be.

Only he's not there anymore.

The heavy sounds of his shoes running in the hall bounce off the walls and she takes off after him. She stops at the door, looks right and sees he hasn't even made it to the end of the hall. She thinks that she should let him go, let him take her to whoever's running this, but, then again, she has no idea how many vampires there are here. The element of surprise is a very powerful weapon, and, right now, holding a half of a ruler in her hand while the other half is shoved in the back of her pants, she needs all the weapons she can get.

The giant has a good hundred pounds on her, so she catches up to him easy. Santana leaps forward and wraps her arms around his neck in a tackle.

Or, what was supposed to be a tackle.

Instead she just slows him down and is now getting a piggy back ride. His arms try to reach back to grab her, but she's to spry and is able to dodge his attempts. She tightens the grip she has around his neck and tries to pull her body backwards in an attempt to throw him off balance.

Stupid idea.

It works, but he falls backwards and she's still attached to his back.

The one thing vampires have up on her is that they don't have to breathe. Santana does. So when a two hundred plus pound guy falls on top of you it knocks the wind out of you. She's coughing on the ground and before she can even think of rolling over and pushing herself up and fighting a huge hand wraps around her neck and lifts her off the ground.

Santana's hands claw at his and her feet dangle uselessly in the air as she's brought face to face with the vampire, smiling wickedly at her. "You're going to be in a lot of trouble once I bring you to the auditorium and he finds out you rescued the little one," he laughs. "You should've run when you had the chance."

She needs to do something fast or she's going to pass out again from the lack of oxygen, and probably die too but she has a feeling whoever's in charge wants her alive for now so she's not too worried about it.

But her vision is fading and the laughter seems like it's coming from another room instead of inches from her own face. The stake she's clutching in her hand clatters to the floor and her head drops down and that's when she sees it.

Another thing this vampire has that she doesn't.

Santana pulls back her leg and swings it forward, connecting to the vampire's crotch.

He releases her and she hits the ground, hard, but not hard enough to be distracted from grabbing her fallen stake and pushing it forward into the vampire's chest.

After taking a moment to catch her breath, Santana straightens up and brushes the dust off her clothes.

She's not really better off than before, but at least Rachel's escaped, there's two vampires down, and she knows where the guy in charge is.

The auditorium.

Of course, she's in an unfamiliar school so, not ideal. Still, she moves through the halls, heading in the same direction that the mammoth guy she just dusted was heading. She doesn't come across any kind of weird twists or turns or crossroads along the way. She thinks she's too lucky when she actually finds a sign pointing her where she needs to go, but stops short after turning a corner when she sees two more vampires standing in front of the entrance.

Santana pulls back and flattens herself against the wall, taking in a deep breath. She's got to do this quick. No hesitating, just turn the corner and dust the vampires without hesitation. There's no time for a fight and if it's too loud who knows what will happen.

The plan is flawed and based on a lot of 'if,' so Santana isn't too surprised when she takes the corner and runs straight into the chest of one of the vampires.

When her eyes open next her cheek is pressed against a black wooden floor and a row of bright, colored lights are shining directly into her face. She squeezes her eyes shut and ignores the pounding in her head as she lifts it and turns it away before chancing another peek.

She sees a polished pair of boots inches from her face attached to a pair of legs clad in tight, black jeans that no doubt lead up to the mouth that drawls, "Hello, Santana."

Tilting her head back she still can't really get a good look at the guy because he's standing right under a spotlight. All she can see is curly hair surrounded by a halo of light. She knows she must be in the auditorium, most likely on the stage then.

"I'm sure you must be shocked now knowing who your enemy is."

Santana squints against the light. "I can't see you face, moron."

The head tilts to the side and suddenly she's being pulled to her feet to face…

Somebody she still doesn't know. She looks back at the vampire and she doesn't even bother struggling against the one that's holding her. There's at least four more along with this guy she's supposed to know so she looks him over. Maybe she has seen him before and forgot. Nothing really clicks, but she still takes in his appearance.

Who knows how long he's been alive, but he looks only a couple years older than her. His face is very chiseled and arrogant and all she can do is arch an eyebrow at her foe.

He sighs loudly, clearly annoyed.

"I'm Jesse St. James," he says, waiting for something to click in her brain and continuing when she keeps on staring blankly back. "Lead singer of Vocal Adrenaline. Your main competition for Regionals."

She continues to stare back at Jesse, her mins still not registering, and it's what she'd probably do even if she did know who he was cause he's got this vein popping out of his forehead and it's kind of funny.

"I'm your nemesis, for Christ's sake!" Jesse screams dramatically.

Santana merely shrugs. "I know we were competing against Vocal Adrenaline, I didn't know that you were vampires."

"This is all going so wrong," he mutters to himself, running a hand through his wild hair. "It wasn't supposed to be you; it was supposed to be Rachel. It was supposed to be someone who appreciated the poetry of it all."

Groaning, Santana says, "You sound like Berry."

"That's cause we're connected," Jesse snaps in response. "Our talent, our passion for performing and drama, and it was supposed to be vampire and Slayer but…

"You ruined it."

"It's not like I chose this."

"True," he agrees. "But you could be a little more enthusiastic about it. You could play your part."

"This isn't a fucking show," Santana goes to take a step forward but the vampire holding her tightens his grip and pulls her back. "I'm not playing my part. I'm here to do what I'm meant to do."

Jesse laughs at this. "_Well_…you're captured, outnumbered, and unarmed. You don't seem to be doing a very good job."

"I took out two of your lackeys and got Rachel out," Santana counters. "I'm not doing too bad."

The smirk on Jesse's face remains in place and doesn't falter. She was hoping for him to react at all but instead he just snaps his fingers and turns to his left. Santana follows his gaze and her entire body tenses when she sees Matt walking on to the stage, tugging a bound and gagged Brittany with him.

Everything seems to stop, including Santana's ability to breath. Brittany's dragging her feet so Matt is practically carrying her over to Jesse. She looks disheveled and Santana can see the tiny scrapes and bruises that will form overnight along her bare arms and on her face. Her ice blue eyes seek Santana's out and all she sees is fear and confusion.

It's then she realizes that Brittany is still in the dark. She probably suspects this isn't a normal thing, that these people that have taken her aren't just people, but she has no idea that Santana is wrapped up in all of this. That she's basically the reason Brittany is in trouble in the first place.

Santana really doesn't care what happens now, so long as she can somehow get Brittany safe.

"How do you feel you're doing now?"

Her eyes narrow on Jesse and she jerks forward again. "She has _nothing_ to do with this," she spits out, struggling against the vampire holding her. "You've already got me, you don't need her."

Jesse nods. "You'd be correct…if this were just about Slayer versus vampire."

Santana can't help looking over at Brittany. She looks just as confused as ever looking back and forth between Santana and Jesse.

"What else is there?" she asks, forcing her focus back on the conversation.

"Have you not been paying attention?" Gathering from Jesse's reaction, she has _not_ been paying enough attention. "New Directions is, at least, one person down. My understanding, though, is that Matt was just chorus, easy to replace. Rachel's another story. She's the star, if I still had her…"

Her eyebrows go straight up and her jaw drops down in disbelief. "Am I getting this right?" she asks. "This is about fucking _Regionals_?"

"Your Glee Club is good, inspiring even," Jesse responds. "You don't have the force of Vocal Adrenaline, but you have heart. That can sway judges from flash, even if there's talent behind the flash. I'm on my way to clenching my _fiftieth_ National championship. I wasn't going to let a bunch of rag tag freaks get in the way of that."

"Fifty?" Santana echoes. "How the fuck old are you anyway?"

"I'm in my early hundreds, a respectable age for a vampire," he replies coolly. "I've been going from city to city, joining different show choirs when a reasonable amount of time has passed, and changing my name so no one gets suspicious. Pretty genius if I do say so myself."

Santana scoffs, "Sounds pathetic to me."

Jesse, who was pacing in front of her, stops dead in his tracks. He turns his head as his face shifts, revealing his true self. She can hear Brittany gasp around the gag, but doesn't break eye contact with Jesse who is slowly walking up to her. "What did you say to me?"

Setting her jaw Santana looks back into his burning yellow eyes without blinking. "I said," she starts, talking slowly and emphasizing each word. "It sounds _pathetic_. You're a vampire. Shouldn't you be trying to end the world?"

"Why would I want to end the world?" Jesse laughs. "The world has people; I eat people. I'm a part of the world. Also, I'm more talented than anybody that has ever existed. I _deserve _to win Nationals."

He's standing right in front of her, looking down with a grin that she hopes to smack away. She jerks her chin up and gets close to his face, speaking low.

"Pathetic."

The corners of his mouth twitch, but Jesse's smile never falters. "You should really watch what you say to me."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes," he says back. "Because I'm the one with the power."

Ignoring Santana's eye roll, Jesse goes on, "As long as I have your friend, you'll do whatever I want."

Santana tries to stay calm, tries not to show how right he is. "She has _nothing_ to do with this."

"That's not what Matt tells me," he fires back. "If I hang on to you and her, New Directions has to replace _three_ of their members."

Santana sighs. "Look, you've got me, OK? You can let her go and, trust me…I doubt Glee's going to go to Regionals anyway."

"Doubt isn't good enough."

The frustration in her keeps growing and growing with every word that passes between them. She's losing focus and getting desperate and she has no room to make threats, but she does anyway. "Let her go, or else."

"Or else what?" he asks. "If you attack us, we'll kill her."

"You so much as touch her and I will end as many of you fuckers as I can," she growls. "I know there are more of you and I don't have a stake, but I will rip your fucking hearts out with my bare hands."

"Let's see how that works out."

Jesse's blocking her view, but she sees the slight nod of his head and then hears Brittany whimper.

She manages to yank her arm free and swing her fist into Jesse's jaw. He brings his hand to his face as he stumbles back a couple steps. The vampire holding her throws her to the ground and grabs her by the collar of her shirt, lifting her up off the stage before bringing his fist down on to her nose. He lets her go and she falls back on to the stage, stunned.

The lights are shining down on her once again as she tries to shake off the fuzzy feeling. She can feel the footsteps walking over to her and stopping by her head. Jesse leans over. "You were saying?"

There's some kind of witty comeback on the tip of her tongue, but Jesse's boot slams down on her face and the world goes fuzzy. She hears laughter and more approaching footsteps and then all she hears (or, more accurately, _feels_) is the sounds of fists and shoes connecting to her body.

It's a full on pummeling.

Every vampire on the stage, save for Jesse and Matt, is just whacking away at her. She hears a crack and hopes that she hasn't broken too many ribs. Her body is trying it's best to curl up and block the blows and heal itself but she is just drowning in a sea of punches and kicks.

One hit to the stomach sends her rolling a few inches from where she was lying on her back a second ago. It would be the perfect opportunity for some sort of comeback, but she can't even see straight.

In fact, right now she can see Jesse taking in the sight, his maniacal laughter drifting into her ears. Next to him, Matt watches with his hand firmly clasped around Brittany's bicep. Though it's hard to see, she can tell he's struggling to remain where he is. She must be bleeding a lot. She knows there _is_ blood when she feels one of the creeps _lick_ the side of her face, but even that isn't enough to kick her instincts into gear.

What sets her off, unsurprisingly, is Brittany.

Santana can't tell how many times she's been hit in the past couple of minutes, but it only takes one blow to Brittany to set her off.

Matt's grip slips as his normal looking face shifts to bumps and fangs and Brittany, who had been struggling since Santana had been turned over to see them (probably since she was thrown to the ground), took the chance to break free and step forward in a futile attempt to help.

Brittany barely makes it a step before Matt yanks her back and smacks her with the back of his hand.

A smack like that from a normal person would just leave you with a red cheek, but from a vampire? Brittany crumples to the ground.

It happens faster than the group beating. She doesn't even know how it starts. She kicks one of them, hard enough to knock him into another one and send them both to the ground before she's on her feet.

Very shakily, but still.

Now that she's upright and not being held, she can see she was right and that there are four of them altogether. The two that aren't tangled together rush towards her. She crouches down low and sends the first one flying into some backdrops pushed just off stage before the other one grabs her by the waist and pulls her off the ground and tight against his body. Her legs kick out and he just laughs as he spins her around.

What they both don't know is that one of the vampires managed to push himself off the stage and was running over to help. She kicked him in the face and managed to smirk as she watched his head snap back and his body drop to the ground.

Santana is still struggling as the vampire's grasp around her torso keeps getting tighter and tighter. She tries throwing her body forward, hoping that her feet can find the ground, but this guy is too tall and she's now finding it hard to breathe.

It's kind of accidental when she leans her head back and it slams into the vampire's face, but it's enough for him to drop her. She sweeps his legs out from under him and she's got them temporarily immobile, but she still needs a weapon.

There's movement to her left and she sees the vampire she threw backstage and notices several pieces of sharp, jagged splinters littering the stage. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Santana tumbles over, grabs one of the larger pieces on the way, and jams it into his heart when she gets to her feet next to him.

Two of them have regained their footing and are charging her. She takes the tackle if only for a good enough shot at one of their hearts. She gets one and she's choking on dust which is only half of her problem cause the other piles through the cloud and slams her hard into the wall. She manages to hold on to her stake as she shoves the vampire back. He steps forward and she drives the wood into his heart.

Santana waits for the last one to attack, but on the opposite side of the stage is the sound of a door opening and closing.

Vampires like to band together and follow some lunatic with a crazy scheme, but, when push comes to shove, they're all about themselves. Fucking cowards, but it's one less thing she has to deal with.

She walks back from out of the rafters cautiously, clutching at her weapon and preparing herself for the heartbreaking image of Jesse and Matt standing over Brittany's lifeless body because she fought back.

It's what she walks out to, but she can see Brittany's chest rising up and down and knows she's just recovering from the hit she took. She breathes a sigh of relief, but it lasts only a second as Jesse steps forward.

Santana smirks. "I think that worked out pretty well, wouldn't you say?"

"So you picked off some of my minions?" Jesse comments casually. "It doesn't change the fact that I have your friend and you have to go through me to get her."

"Gladly."

Santana rushes forward and is on her back with her weapon sliding off the stage before she can even blink. She's still pretty weak and Jesse's a lot older than the other vampires she's fought, so she has to readjust. She rolls on to her back and jumps to her feet, ducking and blocking blows instantly. Her immediate plan is to wear him down, but doing that is wearing her down and Jesse knows the right spots to hit.

The gash on the side of her face that was healing bursts open again, the sore spot where she's certain her ribs broke is being pounded, and when he pushes her back she rolls on her ankle in a bad way and slams down on to her knees hard.

Jesse looks effortless, like he hasn't done a single thing.

"I hope you didn't think it was going to be so easy," he tells her. "I know you had a very inspiring comeback, but there's a reason why I'm surrounded by vampires that do what I say."

"Only see one now," she notes, nodding her head over at Matt who is still standing over Brittany with a stony face as he watches them.

"Considering you're on your knees and I'm standing triumphantly over you, it looks like I don't need them."

Jesse keeps talking. This is her first encounter with some big bad guy that had this vision (a weird, lame one, but still), this grand plan and actually executed it and now she's locked in this battle for not just her life but Brittany's as well. She knew there'd be a lot of banter, back and forth, but with Jesse it's just a lot of bullshit and she'd rather one of them die so she doesn't have to listen to it anymore.

Santana's pretty much tuned him out (seriously, he's _still_ talking) when she brings her right foot up and notices a sharp, stabbing pain. She tries to keep her eyes from going wide when she realizes that the nail file she shoved in her boot is still there. Her eyes flicker to Matt, with a bored expression pasted on his face, who is watching Jesse pace back and forth as he continues to monologue.

It doesn't make sense. Matt brought her in unconscious; he would have searched her for weapons. Out of all the vampires she's come across recently, Matt seems to be the smartest.

Why would he make such a huge mistake like this?

Luck, though, seems to be the theme of the night so when Jesse turns and motions towards Brittany and musing on whether or not he should kill her first so Santana could watch her die or use her as dessert, Santana's hand slips into her boot and she takes the nail file out and slides it into her palm.

"In conclusion," Jesse says, walking over and grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her to her feet. "I don't _need_ anyone to defeat you because you're _nothing_. I knew when I discovered there was an untapped Slayer in this town that it would come to a final fight between me and you.

"And, even back then, I knew I would be victorious."

Santana wasn't really waiting for a poetic moment or whatever, but that seemed like the cue to grip her nail file tight and then shove it into his eye.

Blood gets splattered on to her face and Jesse lets her go as he stumbles backwards and howls and flails. It's kind of sick to enjoy this as much as she is, but Jesse St. James is a douche. She's only known him for twenty minutes or so, but she's been waiting to kill him since then. She bends over and reaches into her left boot, remembering the pencil she shoved in there and retrieves it.

It's still a little confusing and disarming that she's had these hidden weapons all along, but she is going to continue to take advantage of Matt's carelessness.

Their roles now reversed, Santana walks over to Jesse, grabs him by his curly hair, and yanks him to his feet. As far as last words go towards your first nemesis she should have something better to say, but what comes out works just fine for her.

"Fuck you."

With one plunge of a pencil into his chest, the (supposed) great Jesse St. James is now a pile of dust.

For a moment, Santana feels like the weight of the world isn't on her shoulders anymore. She breathes a sigh of relief because she was able to defeat the bad guy and save everyone. Save Brittany.

Then reality smacks her in the face.

Slowly, she turns and sees Matt has lifted Brittany off the ground and is holding her against him. His left arm is wrapped firmly around her waist while his right hand rests on her forehead, tilting her head to the right giving his fangs perfect access to her long, pale neck. Brittany's wide, fearful eyes are locked on Santana, but she can't look back.

This is her last obstacle and she _has _to focus on Matt.

"Matt."

Santana doesn't really know what else to say right now.

Sure, Matt's been stalking her, he invaded her home, threatened her mother, kicked her in the face, kidnapped her, helped Jesse hold Brittany and Rachel hostage, but a part of her still wants to believe that Matt Rutherford is still in there.

He is though, but vampires don't have a soul. They are their human selves, but they no longer feel compassion or guilt or any other emotion that Santana is stupidly hoping Matt has because she is _so close _to securing Brittany's safety.

Matt just grins.

"We don't have to do this."

"Yes we do," he counters. "I've been waiting a long time for this, why _wouldn't_ I go through with it?"

"Go through with what? I mean…why didn't you take away the nail file and the pencil I shoved in my shoes?" she asks, because it's the _one_ thing she's holding on to right now. "You had the chance; you probably searched me for weapons-"

"I did," Matt nods. "And I found them and I left them there."

"_Why_?"

"Because you had to be the one to kill Jesse," he says. "I couldn't do it, I was outnumbered. Too many of the vampires in our group were just new and stupid and they didn't want to question Jesse's plan. I played my part knowing that it would come down to this. That you and Jesse would have this fight and I put all my money on you coming out on top."

Santana gestures wildly to the piles of dust around her. "_Great_. So..it's done now," she responds. "Let Brittany go."

"Can't," Matt sighs. "Brittany here is the only thing that will make you do what I want."

"And what do you want?"

"Your blood."

So much for hope.

"That doesn't have anything to do with Brittany," she points out. "Just…let her go."

She can't even mask the desperation, but she makes the mistake of glancing into Brittany's eyes and her resolve falls.

Santana has had a hell of a day. She's tried to go on the offense when she had no idea who she was fighting and she failed. The people she cares about the most in the world were directly put into danger because of her. She's been beaten to the point where pain is just like a sixth sense to her and Matt is her last hurdle she has to get over.

The worst part of it all is that Matt is one hundred percent aware of it, just like he knows Brittany is the key to get Santana to do whatever he wants.

"Can't just 'let her go' Santana," Matt says calmly. "You've got to fight for her."

"I've been fighting all fucking night," Santana fires back roughly. "Why are you even doing this? Jesse's gone and you can go."

"I _could_," he agrees. "A part of me wants to. Fact of the matter is...if I bag a Slayer then I become someone. Do you know how many vampires will talk about me if I kill you? How much respect I'll get? I'll go down in history. It's all about reputation, even when you're dead.

"I may be a vampire, but I'm still a teenager."

"This is about your fucking reputation?"

"Do you not get that I'm a vampire?" Matt scoffs. "That I'm evil? Come on, you're smarter than that."

Deflated, Santana just mutters, "I don't want to fight you."

Matt sighs in return. "I know. That's where Brittany comes in."

She thinks time would slow down; that something in her would shift and her body would jump into action, but the only thing that freezes when Matt sinks his fangs into Brittany's neck is Santana. She's actually mesmerized by the image in front of her.

The way Brittany's neck tenses as she screams silently, the gag muffling her cries, the way her eyes narrow but remain intensely blue and trained on Santana, and the fact that the blood looks so _red_ as one single drop that doesn't make it into Matt's mouth trickles down her neck and flows along her collar bone and into the dip of Brittany's shirt.

It's weird; she's not overly concerned with just standing there while Matt drinks Brittany's blood. Santana knows he doesn't want to kill the blonde, not right away anyway. He mostly wants Santana, and he's going to fucking get her.

Matt shoves Brittany away as soon as Santana starts running forward, pencil clutched in her fist. She should have thought about this a little more instead of just staring at Matt and Brittany because her big plan to start this fight is to just tackle Matt, but he expects it and braces himself accordingly.

When she lunges forward he catches her by the waist and spins them both in a circle before tossing her back into a wall.

A _solid_ wall that her back slams into, painfully.

She groans and falls face down onto the floor. She tries to recover quickly, pick herself up but Matt is there kicking her stomach and rolling her away a few feet. Her palms flatten against the floor, ready to push her body up, but her arms are shaky and she collapses.

Matt is making a 'tsk tsk' sound as he slowly walks over. "Come on, Santana," he scolds. "I need a good story to tell. You don't want to go down after a couple of blows, do you?"

"I don't know what you expect," she breathes out, trying, unsuccessfully, to get up again. "I just had the shit kicked out of me by three vampires, at the same fucking time."

Crouching down low Matt lifts her head up by her hair (she really wishes that vampires would stop grabbing her by her fucking hair) and says, "I expect you to fight for your girl." He brings his face close to hers as his voice drops down to a whisper. "Cause after I'm done with you, I'm going to finish what I start-"

It's her second head butt of the night, but this one is face to face and now they're both on their backs side by side and twisting in pain.

This isn't a big moment; she doesn't have anything else to say to Matt, all Santana knows is that she's able to sit up before him, grip her pencil in her hand, and shove it deep into his chest.

And, just like that, it's _really_ over.

Except that Brittany was shoved aside and has two puncture wounds in her neck.

Santana scrambles to her feet, rushing back out onto the stage just in time to see Brittany pushing herself into a sitting position. The blonde's struggling and Santana walks forward, tearing away a huge piece of her shirt and folding it up before kneeling down next to Brittany.

Without saying anything, Santana just presses the cloth against Brittany's neck, trying to ignore the way her heart twists at the sounds of Brittany's whimpers when she applies pressure. Brittany stares straight ahead while Santana stares at Brittany, neither knowing what to say.

After a moment, Brittany's body sags down and her hand comes up to rest on top of Santana's. Her own body is weak and trying to heal and she struggles to keep them both upright, but the weight of the blonde is nice and comforting and she leans her head on top of Brittany's and takes in a deep breath.

"Is it over?"

Brittany's voice is hoarse and barely audible, but Santana hears it clearly and exhales a sigh of relief before assuring her, "Yeah, it's over."


	12. Chapter 11

**Title:** Just A Girl (11/11)  
**Author:** Race122VE (Coll)  
**Pairing:** Santana/Brittany  
**Rating:** R (mostly language, then violence and some semi sexiness as the fic goes on)  
**Summary:** _"But…you're just a girl." _Glee AU fic.  
**Word Count:** A little over 4k.  
**Disclaimer:** All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.  
**Author's Note:** There will be an Epilogue to this so one more part. Another big thanks for reading and reviewing!

**Chapter 11**

An hour or so passed and they're still in the same position (Santana kneeling on the stage with Brittany curled around her) when the back doors of the auditorium burst open and Will, Sue, Quinn, and Rachel storm in, clad with weapons and anxious expressions.

The four of them stop when they see Santana and Brittany on the stage and she locks eyes with Quinn first.

It feels like forever since she's seen Quinn. Her hazel eyes are glassy and the sigh she heaves practically echoes throughout the auditorium. Santana feels the corners of her mouth turn upwards and Brittany wraps her arm a little tighter around her middle and a part of her still can't believe that it's over.

Most of all, she can't believe that she's alive; that _Brittany's_ alive.

Reluctantly, she lets got of Brittany so Sue can take a look at the puncture marks on her neck. Rachel helps her and Quinn drags Santana up and wraps her arms around Santana's neck. She's trying to catch her breath as she brings her arms up and squeezes back, catching Will's eye in the process and smiling at him.

There's a lot to say, so much to talk about. Thankfully Quinn just pulls away and stays silent, but grasps Santana's hand as they watch Brittany get patched up. Luckily, the bite won't need stitches so there's no need for a hospital visit.

Santana steps away from Quinn the second that Brittany's done getting bandaged and the two reach for each other's hands desperately. Their knuckles go white from the grip as the group silently agrees to walk out of the school and to the cars.

It becomes apparent when they walk up to Will's car and Sue's that they're going to have to split up. Quinn glances at Santana and Brittany before breaking the silence. She asks Sue to drop her and Rachel off since they live close together and, for once, Sue Sylvester agrees without any kind of malice or annoyance in her tone.

She gives Quinn a quick nod before walking over to Mr. Schue's car and opening the door to the backseat. Brittany follows, draping herself over Santana's body, and soon after they're driving away. With every mile they pass, Santana breathes a little easier and even manages to numbly recount everything that happened.

Will was hesitant when he asked, eyes flickering between the road and the rearview mirror as he stumbled over the question. It's surprisingly easy to give him the facts, to tell how she rescued Rachel and how she got captured and was brought to Jesse.

It gets tougher when she starts explaining why it looks like she got run over by a truck and how she had tried to get Brittany out of danger sooner but ended up having to kill Matt. Her voice cracks and Brittany shifts so her face presses further into Santana's neck. She takes in a deep breath, trying to steady herself, and turns to look out the window and tries to focus on the landscape zooming past her.

Will gets it and the rest of the car ride is silent.

It hadn't occurred to Santana that Brittany would get out of the car with her when Will pulled up in front of Santana's house, but the blonde finds her hand and holds tight and Santana can't help but smile.

They make their way towards her door after Will mentions something about them getting together tomorrow and discussing things and Santana agrees, but she would've agreed to anything so long as she can get Brittany into her house.

If it wasn't for the fact that neither of them has spoken a word to each other in over an hour, Santana would've reminded Brittany to keep quiet as she finds the spare key in her mailbox and opens the door into her house.

The whole time, Brittany never breaks physical contact. As soon as she lets go to open the door, Brittany's hand grabs on to the back of her torn shirt and it remains there as they quietly make their way up the stairs and into Santana's room.

A part of her wants to climb under the covers and pull Brittany tight against her side and fall asleep, but she knows better. Though neither of them has said anything, Santana knows that she has to clear the air with Brittany. She has to explain what happened tonight so she breaks away from Brittany and sits on her bed, curling her legs underneath her. Brittany follows, sitting with her legs crossed at the opposite end of the bed.

A few minutes pass (maybe five or so, but it feels like hours) and they're just staring at each other, neither knowing who should speak first.

Santana figures she should start. She's the one with all the information after all. She's the Slayer, the one who, thankfully, saved Brittany and everyone else, but what the fuck was she supposed to say?

Honestly, she never thought about 'the talk' with Brittany. The one where she has to explain the idea that there's a separate, secret, supernatural world of vampires and demons that are hell bent on destroying the earth and she's the one girl chosen in this generation to fight them. Even though the blonde witnessed it firsthand, Santana feels like she's tainting Brittany by explaining this scary world to her, but she has to now.

There's no easy way to do that, no right way to start.

So she sits until something pops into her mind that is gentler or a softer way to cushion the blow and explain things in an exact way that Brittany is able to grasp it.

Because Santana is terrified that this is going to break Brittany, that _she_ is going to break Brittany.

Her best friend had been through enough. She witnessed Puck being brutally attacked, she experiences getting kidnapped with Rachel and watching vampires nearly beat Santana to a pulp. Then she gets bitten and watches as Santana (the Slayer) kills Jesse St. James and Matt Rutherford, their _friend_, right in front of her.

It's just way too much, and she has to do this just right.

"I want to kiss you."

Santana blinks at how _loud_ Brittany sounds when she blurts out her thought. Her eyes narrow and her brow knots together in shock and confusion and now she's stunned into silence by different thoughts.

Vampires don't exist anymore; she has no calling, no destiny that eliminates any say in her own future. All she has is her best friend saying she wants to kiss her, and Santana never thoughts she'd ever hear that. Even after they've kissed and had just experienced a certain kind of hell, she _still_ thought she'd never hear Brittany say that.

Noticing that she doesn't plan on speaking anytime soon, Brittany, who is sitting cross legged, scoots her body closer to where Santana's sitting and leans in. "I'm _going_ to kiss you," she corrects herself in a soft, warm whisper that Santana feels on her lips. "And you're going to stop over thinking things like a crazy person and kiss me back."

"Brittany-"

She leans forward, capturing Santana's lips and cutting her off. Her eyes go comically wide before blinking shut when Brittany's tongue darts out to trace over Santana's mouth. Santana gives into it, to Brittany's words and her tongue and deepens the kiss.

Strong hands reach around Santana's waist and Brittany tugs her forward, up into a kneeling position so she can close the remaining space between them and basically straddle Brittany's lap. It's kind of awkward and they both fumble through the kiss, breaking apart temporarily so Brittany's hands can shift onto Santana's ass to tug her into the right position, before their bodies are flush against one another's and their faces are inches apart.

Santana's eyes are glued on to Brittany's lips as she says, "We really do have to talk, you know."

An evil smirk flashes across Brittany's mouth and Santana looks up into her blue eyes to see a mischievous look accompanying it. Before she can think too much about it, Brittany's kissing her again, slowly and deeply for a few moments before yanking her face away and sitting back a little, leaving her hands folded together behind Santana's neck.

"OK, let's talk," she says normally, like Santana isn't practically sitting in Brittany's lap. "Let's talk about why you didn't kiss me in the hallway before."

Her eyebrows shoot up at this. "I think there are other things we should be talking about," she reminds Brittany then frowns. Just a few minutes ago she wanted to avoid this conversation and now? Well, now the direction that Brittany wants to take this conversation is a lot scarier than vampires.

The blonde just laughs. "You mean the vampires?" she asks without flinching, which makes Santana flinch. "And that you're all strong and fast and super hero-y? That Rachel and I were kidnapped and Puck was almost killed? I already know what's going on with that. Mostly…but I don't care about that stuff. I don't know what's going on with _us_."

Santana is still blindsided by all of this. Her mouth hangs open, uselessly, because she can't wrap her head around the fact that _this_ is what Brittany wants to focus on.

And that she's still straddling her lap as they're going through this.

"I was in complete denial when I found out about what I am, Britt," Santana finally starts after more long, deafeningly silent minutes of just staring. "Then I'm pretty sure I cried and flipped my shit after I saw my first vampire. I wanted to run away from Schuester when he told me he knew about me and, when Quinn found out, I had to get drunk just to deal with the conversation.

"You find out and you just want to talk about why I didn't kiss you?"

Brittany blinks at her, but answers immediately with a simple, "Yeah."

"I'm not crazy," Santana blurts out, arguing Brittany with nonsense that just starts spewing out of her mouth aimlessly. "You said I was over thinking things like a crazy person and I'm not…I'm actually pretty sane for thinking that this is what we should be talking about. That this is more urgent topic of discussion other than the…"

She trails off, lowering her voice and slumping her shoulder as she stage whispers "The kiss" scandalously.

Brittany scoffs, "Oh come on…you can't even say it? We were just sitting here for, like, ten minutes and you couldn't say _anything_. It's always been a thing with you...you get so wrapped up in what everything means and you just get comfortable in denial and do things like not say the words of certain things and you think that'll make it go away but it doesn't.

"So…I get to pick what we talk about."

"And that's the kiss?"

"Well…it's why you _didn't_ kiss me in the hall," Brittany corrects, but her tone is light and her fingers start twirling the stray hairs at the base of Santana's neck. "And that's what I want to talk about if you insist on us talking instead of making out."

Focus shifts briefly and heat spreads quickly though her body when Brittany mentions making out and she realizes they're still heavily invading each other's personal space, but the look on Brittany's face suggests she is not going to let Santana change her mind about the kissing.

"Stop thinking about it," Brittany says a little loudly, shaking Santana softly with her arms. "Or think about it, just do it out loud. I don't care _how _you do it, S, but I need to know what you're thinking about us. Just…tell me what you're thinking. Just say it. Say it. Say it. Come on. Now. Say it. Say anything. Say it-"

"Why did you kiss me?" she asks, wanting to end the unnerving verbal attack she just received from Brittany. "That's what I'm thinking…or what I've been thinking since that night. Why did _you _kiss _me_? Because…every time I imagined kissing you…all I could do was hope that you would kiss me back."

She stops and sags in Brittany's arms, shaking her head in disbelief. "The fact that you did…"

Santana's not thinking anymore, because a part of her still can't believe that Brittany _did_ kiss her. "That's what I think about," she goes on, looking away from Brittany's eyes and studying the two little, red dots that bleed through the bandage on Brittany's neck.

Her eyes squeeze shut at the image of Matt sinking his fangs into Brittany's neck and ends whatever she's trying to say with, "I can't think about anything else until I know _why _you kissed me."

Instead of answering, Brittany's fingers come around to her face and she starts tracing shapes along her cheeks and forehead as her eyes follow. "It's weird," she mumbles. "You're healed. No one would know how bruised and beaten you were."

Santana sighs, "Brittany…"

"I kissed you because I wanted to," Brittany blurts suddenly. "I've wanted to kiss you for a while."

It's so simple and yet so irritating at the same time, but Brittany's always been that way. Not irritating in a completely negative way, it's just that Brittany is always one to speak her mind. She's the most honest person Santana has ever known, but that doesn't always mean what she says makes sense. Sometimes she can get confused, but she's always coming from a genuine place.

So when Brittany tells Santana that she's wanted to kiss her for a while, Santana believes it. Her chest gets a little tighter and she feels herself smile, but she's still confused. "Why did you wait so long?"

Brittany shrugs. "Because you're my best friend," she explains. "When I kiss someone we keep kissing and doing other stuff until one of us doesn't want to anymore. If it's a friend, like Puck, we're not really friends anymore and it's weird. I didn't want that to happen to us."

"That still doesn't explain why-"

"You were keeping something from me," Brittany continues quietly. "We tell each other everything and then you're ditching me and you're quitting the Cheerios and we weren't talking…" Brittany pauses, breaking away from Santana's gaze and busying herself with the torn hem of Santana's shirt as she sniffs back tears. "It didn't feel like we were friends anymore, and I always wanted to kiss you so…I did."

It makes sense, in a _Brittany_ type of way.

"OK…so…what do we do now?"

"Now, you tell me why you didn't kiss me in the hall tonight."

Santana groans and Brittany pokes her side gently and pouts. "I didn't kiss you because…of…the vampires."

Brittany arches an eyebrow. "And?"

"And…"

Santana's terrified. She was nearly beaten to death tonight, most of her close friends were seriously injured or kidnapped, and Brittany will now have a permanent mark on her neck as a visual reminder of what took place.

But none of that scares her as much as this moment.

Pulled tight against Brittany, their faces inches apart, breath mingling, and not a single thing kept between them. Santana's never been more scared in her entire life.

This isn't just about Brittany being her best friend and a girl. Not anymore. Now she has a dangerous destiny, a shortened lifespan, a calling to destroy evil things that would do _anything_ to get to her. It didn't seem fair to pull Brittany into this; to dive head first into a relationship, to risk their friendship (risk _Brittany_), while she has this other terrifying life.

"It's just not a good time, B."

She tries to pull away; she can't stand being in Brittany's space like this any longer than she has to, but the blonde holds tight. "Whoa, hey," she says with a light chuckle. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means that what happened tonight was because of who I am," Santana tells her. "I'm the chosen one and I'm going to be the chosen one until a vampire or a demon kills me and…it would be better if we just didn't do this."

Something she recognizes as anger with a slight hint of annoyance flashes in Brittany's eyes before they roll up. Santana opens her mouth to argue further, but Brittany beats her to it. "So we're just going to go back to wanting to be with each other and not doing anything about it because of vampires?"

"Wanting to be with each other?" Santana echoes. "Brittany…we just kissed a couple of times-"

"And now you're denying it," Brittany scoffs. "_Again_. Santana, _you_ want this. _I_ want this. You're making it too complicated-"

"It _is_ complicated," Santana cuts in harshly. "OK, fine, I want to be with you, but there's more to it than that."

Without warning, Brittany cups Santana's face and pulls her into a searing kiss. There's a fleeting moment when she remembers that she's stronger and could easily pull away and out of Brittany's embrace, that she should have done this a lot sooner, but then Brittany's tongue is rolling against her own and she stops thinking altogether and just reacts.

Her hands tangle themselves in Brittany's hair as the kiss gets heated and hungry and kind of desperate. Brittany nips at her bottom lip and Santana's hips grind down, tearing a low moan from the back of Brittany's throat. It's too much and this time she has enough strength to pull away and push Brittany back by her shoulders.

"You felt that," Brittany states, her voice breathy and her lips swollen. "This doesn't have to be complicated. This should be the simplest thing ever."

Brittany's sureness is unsettling and comforting at the same time. She's always wanted that ability, to act with little thought and give into the things that she really wants. She never got the hang of it though. Looking back at all the times she would over think things seems so silly now that there's real things at stake and not something trivial like her reputation or something.

Things are different now. She has a bigger responsibility and being the Slayer will _always_ come first, above anything else in her life.

But she's looking into Brittany's eyes and she knows that they can't ignore this. She closes her eyes, drops her head so that her forehead is resting against Brittany's, and breathes out through her nose. Brittany's hands rest on her hips, squeezing quickly before they slide around to the small of her back. She moves her head and buries her face in Santana's hair, hugging her close.

"We can do this," Brittany says, her voice muffled as she pushes her face deeper into her hair. "You'll see."

Santana doesn't say anything back, _can't_ say anything, because a big part of her still doesn't believe it. Instead, she kisses Brittany's temple, letting her lips linger a little bit, before pulling back and smiling at the blonde.

Brittany smiles back and, just like that, they silently agree to give this a shot. Even though she knows better and that this is terribly selfish and wrong, it's still what she wants.

They're kissing again after a moment, but there's a slower, lazy pace this time. Brittany's not trying to prove a point and Santana's focusing on the way their lips move together instead of her destiny and it's easy.

When Brittany's hands wander lower, her fingertips tracing the exposed skin above her jeans, Santana's body gets hot and her kisses grow feverish. Santana wants to take this further and, judging by the way Brittany's responding, she wants the same thing, but not only is she completely unprepared for sex with her best friend, she's physically spent.

It's Brittany who pulls away this time, smirking knowingly at Santana. "You look terrible."

"Thanks, B," she laughs. "I had kind ofa rough night you know..."

"I bet mine was worse," Brittany fires back playfully. "We should probably get some sleep."

"Yeah."

She moves off of Brittany's lap and crawls up her bed before flopping on to her back. She sighs pleasantly when her head sinks into her pillow. Brittany lies down next to her, turning her head so she's looking at Santana with an amused expression. "What?"

Brittany shrugs. "Just looking."

"OK," she chuckles, squirming uncomfortably. "Why are you over there anyway? You never had a problem invading my personal space before."

"I didn't want to push things," Brittany says. "I'm sure your brain's still over heating or something."

"Well…my brain stops working when you're all up in my space," she pouts. "Come here."

Brittany obliges, draping herself over Santana the same way she always has since they were little. Brittany was never shy about touching people, especially Santana. That was just the way they were, it never became something Santana overly thought about until she realized her feelings for Brittany ran deeper.

While it was weird to not have Brittany pinning her to the bed, she was also a little nervous now that they've more or less taken their relationship to another level. As soon as Brittany rests her head on Santana's shoulder everything seems to snap into place and she feels like this is going to work.

That she's going to it work.

Santana hugs Brittany closer, her one hand sliding through Brittany's hair while the other rest on top of Brittany's hand that is flat against her stomach.

Everything's fine, everyone's safe, and her eyes close and she's ready to sleep for a few days, it seems, when Brittany's body tenses on top of her and her hand closes around Santana's wrist.

"My bracelet," she gasps. "I lost my bracelet. S…I'm so sorry…"

She doesn't even open her eyes, "It's fine, B. I've…" She's supposed to say she's got it in her pocket, but that's a lie. She _had _it in her pocket but that was before she changed out of the blood soaked clothes and the worst night of her life was only just beginning.

In the span of a minute she's out of the bed, ignoring Brittany calling out her name, and jumping out her bedroom window. She tosses the lid to the trashcan aside, wincing at the loud clatter she caused. She reaches in and feels around, scrunching up her nose as she digs through garbage before pulling out a plastic bag that contains her bloody clothes from earlier.

Tearing open the plastic, Santana lets her shirt and the plastic fall back into the can as she reaches into the pockets of her jeans.

Her eyes shut and she lets out a deep breath when her hand wraps around the metal and she pulls Brittany's bracelet out of the pocket.

It's sticky and coated with blood, but it's in her hand and Brittany's upstairs in her bed and they're together and, even though things are far from perfect and probably never will be, she feels like life is finally cutting her a break.

Santana goes to stand under her window and crouches down low before jumping up and catching hold of her window sill. Brittany's sitting up on her bed when she pulls herself in and straightens up, her arms hugged tightly around her waist and eyes locked on Santana's form.

"Wow," she mumbles. "You're like…a ninja."

Santana shrugs, "Being a vampire slayer has it's perks. Sorry to just jump out of bed like that, but I had to get this."

She opens her hand and the bracelet slides out of her hands and dangles from her fingers. Brittany's eyes grow wide as they watch it swing back and forth. "How…?"

"At school," Santana tells her as she walks over to the bed and kneels in front of Brittany. "When I found Puck. That's why it's so bloody. It must have come off when…when they took you." The last words she can barely get out and her eyes drop down to her hand.

Or, more accurately, Brittany's hand as her fingers trace the length of the bracelet before closing around it and taking it into her lap.

"I'll get it cleaned for you," Santana offers quietly. "Tomorrow. I'll take it and-"

Brittany's hand comes up and rests on Santana's cheek, silencing her. "It's OK, Santana," she assures her. "Everything's OK."

This time, Brittany grasps Santana's wrists and tugs her down to the bed. She reaches over and sets the bracelet down on Santana's bedside table and settles on her back before pulling Santana on top of her. Brittany's body is warm and soft and, even though she's still a little worked up and upset, it's so easy to close her eyes and give in to exhaustion.

Brittany's arms circle around her body and her lips brush against the top of Santana's head and she smiles before falling asleep.


	13. Epilogue

**Title:** Just A Girl - Epilogue  
**Author:** Race122VE (Coll)  
**Pairing:** Santana/Brittany  
**Rating:** R (mostly language, then violence and some semi sexiness as the fic goes on)  
**Summary:** _"But…you're just a girl." _Glee AU fic.  
**Word Count:** Just about 4800 (Overall, 58.251)  
**Disclaimer:** All television shows, movies, books, and other copyrighted material referred to in this work, and the characters, settings, and events thereof, are the properties of their respective owners. As this work is an interpretation of the original material and not for-profit, it constitutes fair use. Reference to real persons, places, or events are made in a fictional context, and are not intended to be libelous, defamatory, or in any way factual.  
**Author's Notes:** Just wanted to take this time to thank everyone for sticking with me and reading this. Especially to Mel who started beta'ing this and to Mal who kinda helped out in the later chapters (namely the epilogue) Apologies to some of the really late updates and not always replying to comments. I read and appreciate every single one though and they do help me to keep going. I've got a few things in the works (as well as a sequel outlined out for this one) so hopefully you'll enjoy those. Thanks again for reading!

**One Week Later**

Things are going well.

_Too_ well, but Santana finds it is easy to ignore the sense that something dark and ominous is hanging over her head when Brittany kisses her.

Brittany touching her in _any_ way pretty much makes her forget that she's the Slayer, and they've had a whole week of forgetting.

After the attack at school that got Rachel and Brittany kidnapped and Puck in a hospital bed for a couple days, the police pretty much shut down the McKinley and opened a full on investigation. It didn't help that Carmel High's Glee Club also disappeared the same night. All of that coupled with the increasing number of missing students that had accumulated over the past month forced the cops to get off their asses and actually try to do something.

Unfortunately, there was nothing to be done and they just ended up going around in circles. They're going to keep running around in circles because the investigations won't close anytime soon and there won't be any new information to gain.

The day after everything went down, Brittany and Santana met up with Mr. Schue, Sue, Rachel, and Quinn because Quinn was about to get dragged into multiple questioning sessions and they had to get their stories straight. They all agreed on something and Quinn talked to Puck, but Quinn got put through the wringer even though she didn't know anything and Puck ended up becoming a kind of local hero or something, surviving the attack when so many others vanished without a trace.

Santana hadn't gotten a chance to see him since kneeling next his body, but they had texted back and forth saying they were both busy and happy to be alive and blah blah blah. Neither of them had ever been good with verbalizing their mutual liking of one another. Santana was still, technically, grounded (though her mom had been allowing Brittany over to hang out because Brittany's really good at convincing parents to give her what she wants) and Puck was probably using his near death experience to get as much ass as humanly possible anyway, so it didn't matter too much that they hadn't seen each other.

The first day back was quiet. Everyone steered clear of her because now she has this reputation of being a delinquent but she kind of likes the peace being a loner brings. Sure, she has Brittany and Quinn and Glee Club, but only their extracurricular activities were to blame for them seeing each other all day.

Before Brittany was forced into her supernatural world and they got together, Santana enjoyed not seeing the blonde all day. It made it easier to avoid her.

Now?

Now she hates it.

As soon as her last class let's out Santana sets up camp outside the locker room and waits for the Cheerios to finish their practice.

Sue Sylvester may be her Watcher and understand why she quit the Cheerios in the first place (hell, she was going to kick her off the team herself had Santana not beat her to it), but she still enforces the rule that no one is allowed in the Cheerios locker room for _any_ reason.

It sucks and Santana would sneak in and get her mack on before Glee, but Sue has secret cameras installed. Not all the girls know about it, obviously, but Santana's accidentally stumbled upon a wall of monitors behind one of Sue's trophy cases that show the locker room. It's the main reason she picked the back row of lockers for her, Brittany, and Quinn.

There's ten minutes left before Brittany comes bursting out of the door and into her arms and she's trying to read up about this stone that supposedly allows a vampire to walk in sunlight or something (Mr. Schue talks a lot and she knows it's important to know these kinds of things but it's all really boring and she's better at the hitting thing anyways) but she can't focus. She's both worried and anxious about being with Brittany.

Sure the blonde is known for her promiscuous tendencies (most of them are exaggerated and, if anything, Brittany's really just a make out slut) and blindness to gender and it's stupid because she could give a shit about what people think of her, but she's still kind of worried about being public with her relationship. They've been in this kind of bubble where the only people who know that they're together for sure are Quinn and Rachel.

And Mr. Schue too, she guesses.

They did walk into that meeting with their fingers laced together and Brittany practically in her lap the whole time. You'd have to be an idiot not to realize that their friendship has turned into something more.

Being back at school though, and under the constant scrutiny of her peers, just makes everything so much more _real_. It shouldn't matter that Brittany's a girl; there are more important things, more life threatening things, to worry about, but she can't help it.

All she ever wanted from life was a sense of normalcy and all she's gotten is different. From her dad leaving her and her mom, to becoming a Slayer, to falling for her best friend. All three of those things are scary for their own reasons, but Brittany makes it easy for her to forget her fear.

That's why her leg is bouncing up and down and her eyes are staring intently at the door to the locker room and it's also why she nearly jumps out of her skin when Puck plops down right next to her.

"Sup?"

"Well, well…look at you, all alive and shit," Santana greets with a smirk. "What are you doing here? Waiting to grab the first Cheerio you see?"

"I'm waiting for _a_ Cheerio, yes," he responds, mirroring her smirk. "I was also hoping to catch up with you at some point before Glee Club. Should've known you'd be waiting for Brittany."

Santana laughs, "Am I that obvious?"

"You _both_ are," he corrects her, laughing along before turning serious. "Anyway, um…I've been wanting to…you know…thank you…"

"Thank me?"

Puck nods, "Yeah. I don't know any other chicks that have super powers and kill vampires."

She shushes him because they may be the only two people outside of the locker room, but Puck's using his regular, _loud_ voice and she can't chance anything. Things have been quiet, she's only been out patrolling twice and come across a handful of vampires, but she doesn't want to jinx anything. Mr. Schue keeps saying that's it's always quietest before the storm or whatever, and she knows he's right.

So, Santana wants to enjoy that quiet for as long as she can.

"You don't have to thank me, you know," she tells him. "Quinn's the one that got you to a hospital. I got myself covered in your blood and had a nervous breakdown."

"You chased off the vampires, they would've found Quinn, they would've drained me," he insists in a hushed whisper. "You saved us all that night and you've been keeping this secret and…"

She sees him getting worked up and clenching his fists in frustration so she reaches over and wraps her hand around one of them. Puck's head is hung low, his eyes fixated on the ugly tiling on the floor. She scoffs and leans her body into his, bumping their shoulders together as she releases her hand and pats his thigh a couple times. "I kind of didn't have a choice," she jokes, hoping to lighten the mood. "I have to save _everyone_, even assholes like you."

Puck looks back up at her and can't help but grin. "You love me."

"I put up with you," she says back. "Doesn't mean I love you."

Puck's smile only gets bigger, and more suggestive. "Whatever. You're going to miss seeing me every day."

"I already see you every day," she reminds him.

"I'm talking about Glee Club," he says. "It's our last meeting. We didn't go to Regionals which means we didn't win Regionals which means bye-bye club."

Santana's mouth hangs open for a few seconds before she snaps it shut and shakes her head. "No," she shoots back, unable to believe that the one normal thing left she has could possibly be over. "No way. Mr. Schue wouldn't let Figgins do that."

"You think it's up to Figgins?" Puck argues. "It's fucking Sue Sylvester. I know she's your Watcher or some shit, but that doesn't change the fact that she still hates Glee Club."

"No. No, it's not fair-"

"Not about what's fair," Puck cuts in, pausing to glance up at the door as a few Cheerios start filing out of the locker room. "You should know that better than anyone else. Nothing about what's happened to you is fair."

She's ready to argue further, but the bell rings and there's Cheerios everywhere and now is not a good time to get into it. Puck shrugs as he pushes himself off the floor and holds his arms open. Santana's too lost in the reality of what's about to happen to care that Puck and some chick are sucking on each other's faces as she sits on the ground.

This _can't_ be the last Glee Club meeting.

Well, technically it can be because summer break is right around the corner.

But Santana had started entertaining the idea that her two lives could coexist and her high school career wasn't going to be wasted as just some girl with a bad reputation.

Just like that, Noah Puckerman had burst her bubble and sent her crashing down into reality.

She pushes herself up to her feet, ready to sock him in the shoulder for good measure and scare away whatever girl was dumb enough to fall for his hero bit by suggesting that he had some sort of highly contagious STD but stops when she notices a familiar head of blonde hair.

"Quinn?"

Quinn pulls away from Puck and turns to look at Santana while her hands still rest on his shoulders and his arms hug her waist close to his body.

"What the fuck?"

"Hey, S," she says sheepishly, her cheeks flush and her lips trying not to smile broadly. "How'd the first day back go?"

"Why the fuck didn't you tell me you started hooking up with this loser?"

"Hey," they both say back at the same time before Quinn goes on. "Because we weren't hooking up until the weekend, and you've been busy with your own blonde."

Santana rolls her eyes, "But it's _Puck_. You _hate_ Puck."

Quinn steps back but her hand comes down and slides into Puck's. "A lot's changed, Santana…and I went to see him a lot in the hospital and we talked and…it just happened."

"This kind of shit doesn't happen unless there's like…underlying feelings or something."

She's being weirdly irrational, but this just doesn't seem like something to come out of left field. The virgin ice queen getting together with the bad boy player is _not_ a good mix and _not_ something that just happens. "There, um," Quinn pauses to clear her throat and look back at Puck timidly. "There may have been some feelings."

The way Quinn says it seems like a question and Puck looks back at her with the same dopey expression and Santana can't stop the way her lip curls up in a sneer as he tells her, "Definitely some feelings, babe."

There's some kind of remark on her tongue (really there's several things swirling in her mind that she wants to comment on because she's been bombarded with a lot of pressing information in the past five minutes) but, thankfully, another familiar blonde catches her off guard.

The last week has been surprisingly helpful in Santana's ongoing quest of learning how to properly master her skills. She's good, but she's still very new so sometimes she'll slip and pull a door off its hinges or accidentally shove a dork too hard when she pushes her way through the halls. So when her and Brittany became pretty much inseparable this past week, Santana had to readjust her senses.

The blonde was prone to jumping up behind you and surprises and Santana didn't think it was a good idea to give her girlfriend a black eye so she worked really hard on being hyper aware of _Brittany_. Now, just like she can sense vampires when they're near she's tuned herself into Brittany. She still finds herself getting pushed against walls and moaning loudly at the way Brittany's tongue licks the roof of her mouth (much like what is happening now) but at least there's no knee jerk reaction to shove the girl off of her and through a wall.

No, the only reaction she has now is to forget that anyone else exists except for the girl in her arms. Any negative thoughts about being open with their relationship, about the possible end of Glee Club, or the train wreck that is Puck and Quinn are gone and Santana smiles into the kiss as Brittany nips her bottom lip and tugs.

"Holy shit this is fucking _hot_."

As she leans her head against the wall and Brittany turns to look over at the pair, Quinn's fist slams hard into Puck's chest.

"Ow!"

"Don't gawk at them, perv."

"They're two hot chicks who I made out with making out in front of me. What am I supposed to- Ow, ow ow!"

After Quinn pounds Puck a few more times she grabs his hand and yanks him away from them, heading towards the choir room. "See you at Glee," she calls back to them as Puck grumbles.

Brittany waves back at them, giggling still at Puck, before she turns her attention back to Santana. "Hi."

"Hey," she says back, all too aware of how close their faces are and how good Brittany smells even after an hour of Cheerio's practice. "How was your day?"

"OK," Brittany shrugs; a small, adorable pout on her lips. "I missed you though."

Santana kisses the pout away. "I know," she tells her, pulling away. "We just have to put up with it until summer and then try to make sure we have similar schedules next year."

"You think we could?"

"I think I'll threaten someone and then it'll happen," she smirks, but Brittany looks serious and worried. "Don't worry, I won't actually hurt anyone alive."

"You better not," Brittany jokes and Santana tries to smile back but her thoughts creep up on her again and her brow furrows. Brittany, being Brittany, catches it immediately. "What?"

She tries to brush it off. "Nothing. Just…thinking about something Puck said."

"About how we're hot?" Santana laughs because Brittany makes her feel better, but her girlfriend was just loosening her up. "Tell me."

"About Glee Club," she finally admits. "We didn't win Regionals…"

"But there wasn't a Regionals to win," Brittany reminds her even though Santana's painfully aware. "What does he think? That they're going to get rid of Glee Club?"

"Figgins said we had to place at Regionals and Sue's still hates us and Mr. Schue," she says. "The fact that she's one of my Watchers hasn't changed that."

Brittany tries to think of something to say, but sighs in defeat as her she tilts her head down and rests her forehead against Santana's. "It'll be OK."

Her hands run up Brittany's sides, sliding all the way up to her long, slender neck. She runs her fingers over the two small dots on Brittany's neck. Her chest tightens and suddenly Brittany's too close so she moves her hands down to rest on her shoulder and she gently pushes her back. "I chose Glee Club over the Cheerios," she tells her. "It's what I want; it's all I have left except for making sure my grades are high enough to graduate-"

"You have me," Brittany interrupts softly.

"I know, I didn't mean…" Santana takes a deep breath, trying not to screw her words up. "in that one hour and all the rehearsal time we put in…I'm not a vampire Slayer. It helps me forget for a little bit." Brittany opens her mouth to argue more, but Santana rushes on. "You do that too, you do, but sometimes I'll close my eyes and I'll see Matt and his fangs and your neck and…"

Blue eyes travel back up to hers and she takes a breath to steady herself. "I just didn't think it would be over, that's all."

Brittany's face softens and she nods. "Well we don't know anything yet, right?" Santana shakes her head. "So let's go and we'll be sad about it when we have to be."

"But I don't want to be sad about it," Santana whines, even though her tone is light and playful.

It gets a chuckle out of Brittany though. "Then I'll have to make you unsad." Brittany leans forward, catching Santana's lips quickly before pulling away and tangling their fingers together. "Come on. We're going to be late."

Santana lets herself get dragged down the hall. They turn the corner heading towards the choir room. At first they fight through the sea of students trying to leave for the day, but eventually they part and stare at Brittany and Santana and their interlocked hands. Brittany walks a step ahead of her, head held high, pony tail bouncing with each step, and a smile plastered on to her face. Santana trails, squeezing her girlfriend's hand every so often when she hears a too loud whisper. She hunches her shoulders and hangs her head low, hating the way she wants to rip her hand away and just disappear.

The looks don't stop once Brittany leads them into the choir room. Eight sets of eyes collectively snap up as they enter and Santana freezes. Brittany stumbles a bit when she keeps going forward and turns to look at Santana. She raises her eyebrows. "S…?"

She clears her throat and tries to remember that she's a badass and shouldn't care about what people think of her, but everything's so different now. Majority of the Glee Club now knows the truth about who she is and what kind of world they live in while the other's go on in ignorant bliss, simply disappointed that they couldn't compete at Regionals.

Maybe, she muses, that's why she's so worried about Glee Club's future. Sure, she loves it, but worrying about something as trivial as a singing group is the kind of thing she should be worrying about.

It's _normal_.

Brittany sits down next to Quinn and Santana glances at the rest of the group before sitting next to Brittany and sliding her seat closer. Artie and Tina are sitting on the other side of Quinn and Puck, trying to pretend that they weren't just staring at her and Brittany. Mercedes and Kurt are behind them with the same guilty looks and Rachel's next to them giving her a wide, bright smile. She rolls her eyes because she knows that she's going to have to actually talk to Rachel Berry now and the tiny girl thinks she owes Santana or something.

It's so annoying.

Finn's in the back row with his eyes squeezed shut as his mouth continues to mumble something over and over again. It's only thanks to her super heightened hearing that she recognizes the word "mailman" and she sneers briefly at that before her eyes move over to Mike.

Mike Chang is the quietest guy she's even known, so much so that she was convinced he was a mute for a good three months after they met at a party shortly after high school started. That was also when she met Matt and that was the same night that Mike and Matt became just as inseparable as Santana and Brittany.

With all the shit going on in her own life, she never got a chance to see how Matt's "disappearance" affected the rest of Glee Club. Now she can't help but see it because while everyone in Glee Club was focusing on her hand in Brittany's, Mike was just staring blankly ahead. The police had assured the good citizens of Lima, Ohio that they would continue searching for the missing kids until they found evidence to stop, but Santana knew the truth. Santana killed Matt personally and she's looking at Mike and he seems incomplete, like he lost an arm or something.

They weren't gay or anything (not that Santana hadn't started her own rumors in the past about that subject just for kicks) but they were close enough where Matt's death has broken Mike. It makes her miss the days of being a bitch and not caring about anything except status. A part of her wants to pull him aside and tell him the truth, give him some kind of peace of mind, but that would mean telling him _everything_ and the last thing she needs is for another person to know the truth.

Though Mr. Schue and Sue didn't say it out loud, she can just tell how neither is happy that _four_ people know who she is.

Brittany pulls their joined hands into her lap, covering them with her free hand and giving Santana a smile when she looks over. It should make her feel better, it certainly helps, but she's thinking about how much Mike must be hurting and how hurt she would've been if she didn't save Brittany.

Luckily, Mr. Schue walks in and saves her from her grim thoughts. "Alright guys, welcome back," he starts, looking over at Santana first before moving his gaze to Puck. "I think it's safe to say we're all glad to see each other, despite past differences, and I for one am happy to see Noah Puckerman back."

He starts clapping and everyone joins in, even Mike. "It's been a rough week for everyone," he goes on after everyone settles. "There's been a lot of recuperating and I know that Regionals was cancelled and some of you may be wondering if this is our last meeting or not." Santana takes in a deep breath and squeezes Brittany's hand a little too hard. "I'm happy to say it's not."

They're all sort of frozen in shock with the news at first until Rachel Berry jumps up and screams. Everyone takes another moment to process the news. Santana takes the longest, her jaw still hanging open as she stares at Mr. Schuester. He's smiling as everyone jumps around and hugs each other. Rachel runs up and throws herself into his arms. It's all happening in slow motion and the only thing that breaks her out of her daze is when Brittany leans down and pecks her lips. "You heard him, right?"

Santana nods like a crazy person as she stands and pulls Brittany into a hug. "See," Brittany says into her shoulder, her voice muffled and happy. "I told you it would be OK."

"You have to say stuff like that," Santana teases as she pulls back.

Brittany's still smiling. "Doesn't mean I didn't believe it."

Their exchange goes unnoticed and Santana likes it that way.

"What happened?" Quinn breaks the silence, addressing Mr. Schuester and still hanging on to Puck. "How did you convince Principal Figgins?"

"I had some help," Mr. Schue says. "From Sue."

The entire room stops and stares back at him, jaws wide open in shock. "What?" Rachel gasps.

Schue just nods. "Yeah, I was arguing my case with Figgins and Sue strolls in and offers to give the Glee Club the funds that it needs for another year," he tells them. "I caught up with her after she left and tried to ask her why but she just insulted my hair, so I didn't press."

"I can't believe it," Santana mutters.

"Believe it," he says back with a nod that's meant just for her. "But don't mention it to Sue, let's not jinx it. Anyway…I think you kids deserve a break, get out of here, and enjoy your summers."

Everyone cheers and hugs once more before collecting their things and filing out of the choir room. Santana (along with Brittany, Quinn, Puck, and Rachel) takes a little bit longer, silently knowing somehow that they should all hang back to talk with Mr. Schuester. They all watch as Tina rolls Artie out of the room before addressing each other.

Well, they kind of just look around at each other and open and close their mouths every now and again but never really say anything.

After all, what's there really to say that they haven't talked about?

"Coach Sylvester is really responsible for another year of Glee Club?" Rachel asks, her voice sounding loud and mammoth as it cuts through the silence.

"I told you guys exactly what happened," he confirms. "I can't guarantee that the abuse will stop, but for whatever reason she's keeping us afloat.

"That's not what's important though," he says more seriously. "I know where we landed after we all got together; minus Noah, but I wanted to make sure that everyone's still doing alright now that you know…what you know."

Everyone nods and there's a chorus of murmured agreement before Mr. Schue talks again. "Good. Because it's really important that no one knows what Santana is and what she fights. I'm not going to stand here and say that I'm thrilled so many of you know about vampires and demons now but I am glad you're all a group of kids I can trust. I know that you guys get how important this is and that's why I'm not worried…"

He trails off, his eyes going to the back of the room where Rachel is still seated. Santana turns and groans when she sees her with her hand raised in the air, begging to be called on. "Rachel?"

"I'd actually like to say something to all of you," she responds, clearing her throat before she moves to the piano and stands next to Mr. Schue. "If that's…alright…"

Mr. Schue nods politely and walks to stand with everyone else. His hand comes down on Santana's shoulder and squeezes briefly and she rolls her eyes at him even though Mr. Schuester is kind of awesome. Brittany's palm slides against her own and she looks over to see the blonde watching Rachel. Santana looks up at the girl and sees her take a deep breath, trying to compose herself, before looking up at the group.

"I'll try to be brief," Rachel begins, her voice shaky and nervous which is not something Santana expects from her. "I know that I don't belong here, that none of you like me and that if Santana could make someone forget her secret it would be me-"

"Rachel…"

"Please, Mr. Schuester," she stops him from whatever interruption he had, takes another deep breath, and continues. "Anyway, I just…wanted to offer my help in any way that I can. I've seen what vampires are capable of." Rachel pauses to glance at Puck. "I could've been in a worse position than I was but you saved me. You saved me and I know how hard that must have been for you because I know that there was only one thing on your mind that night."

Her hand squeezes Brittany's without any thought as her eyes remain on Rachel. She turns to look at Santana and gives her a watery smile. "I know that I can't do what you do, but if you need anything I want to help," she goes on. "I can't keep going on, knowing what I know, and just be useless. So, I'm officially at your service. Consider it a thank you."

"Ditto," Puck chimes in, winking at her.

Quinn smiles as she leans back against him and Brittany leans over to kiss her cheek, lingering a few moments before pulling back and whispering, "We're not going anywhere."

Warmth spreads throughout her body and it's different from what Brittany's been making her feel all week. If she had to put a word on it, she'd call it hope. Accepting her destiny meant that she shut out any chance of happiness or a life outside of this world and now…

Now she has her best friend as her girlfriend and Glee Club and _friends_ (even if those friends include Rachel Berry) that know her deepest, darkest secret and love her anyway. More than that, they want to help her in any way that they can. Santana can't remember ever feeling this happy before in her entire life.

Standing in this room and being with these people, she thinks she could get used to it.

**The End.**


End file.
